


Nearly

by CapsuleCorp



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Injury Recovery, M/M, Minor Violence, Pre-Time Skip, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:29:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4004137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapsuleCorp/pseuds/CapsuleCorp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanji has a brush with death and Zoro finds himself dealing with his own grief. Assumes a relationship between the two. Takes place just after Thriller Bark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nearly

When the smoke and dust cleared, there were two bodies sprawled on the ground, each haloed in its own spatter of blood. It was unclear exactly what had happened, how the battle had commenced, who had landed what blow, but the fact that one lay with his head at an unnatural angle – neck snapped – meant the other must be considered the victor. And yet, there wasn’t much reason to celebrate that victory, since it came at a cost too high for the crew to afford. Zoro’s mind was blank, a dull haze of static, as he made his way back to where the others were supposed to gather. He couldn’t show emotion in front of them, though it was hard to feel any one thing at one time – too many thoughts crashed together in his head, canceling each other out and leaving him stoic-faced and silent. It was only when he came within sight of the landing and heard Chopper call out in alarm that he nearly broke, though it only manifested in a twitch of his eyebrow. His face remained grim, his eyes shadowed, his jaw clenched so he would not say a word and risk his voice betraying him. No one would need to ask him questions anyway. They could, but they would all be rhetorical or otherwise unanswerable, since they could see for themselves. His gaze remained cast downward as he walked slowly, carefully and deliberately putting one foot in front of the other and watching his footing, mainly to keep from spotting any of the others. The walk was difficult enough without staring into their faces, watching them scream – because he knew they were screaming. Chopper was rushing at him already, but very shortly the rest would follow, demanding to know what had happened. It wasn’t Nami’s voice, or Robin’s, that made Zoro’s breath catch in his throat, it was Luffy’s. Shaken, stammering, not yelling. It was far off, though, compared to the one at his elbow insistently yammering, “Put him down! Put him down! Zoro, you idiot, you shouldn’t have moved him! You could have made it worse!”

Zoro stopped there, his head turning, though it took a delayed moment or two for him to come to himself and respond. His voice came out no stronger than a sullen murmur. “It’s impossible to make it any worse.”

“What do you mean? He could have internal injuries!” Chopper scolded at high volume. “And you don’t look so good yourself! Hurry up and put him down!”

Zoro wanted to repeat his statement, to make Chopper understand what he meant, but there was no point. All he could do was go to one knee, bend down, and unload the body in his arms as gently as he could. As he reached the tiny doctor’s eye level, the extent of the damage could finally be seen, and even Chopper quieted in horror at the wounds and blood. Zoro let Sanji’s head rest against his shoulder until the last, and his composure began to waver as he laid the cook out on the ground. “It’s no use,” he whispered privately. “It’s too late.”

“It can’t be!” There were bloody fingerprints on Sanji’s neck where someone would feel for a pulse, but being a doctor, Chopper intended to find out for himself. He whipped off his backpack and rooted around for his stethoscope with all due haste. “Just you watch and see!”

“Chopper…” Zoro wanted to yell at him, but he couldn’t make himself say the words, much less raise his voice. He knelt there on the other side of the cook’s limp, lifeless body, staring blankly at the blood soaking his shirt from a number of cuts. He had sworn he felt no pulse, it seemed like Sanji wasn’t breathing at all. That was why he dared to carry him back instead of fetching the doctor. Why rush to save him when there was no life left in him to save? He watched in a daze as Chopper yanked open the tattered remnants of the shirt and began examining Sanji, and then his eyes wandered towards his comrade’s face frozen in a dull expression, scuffed with dirt and blood, his hair dirty and almost completely covering his whole face. From between strands of blond sticky with dried blood his right eye peeped, closed but for a tiny slit through which no light of life gleamed. Zoro was trying his damnedest not to lose composure, but it was getting difficult. At least the others hadn’t approached, they were still downslope a short way, forming into a knot. Zoro was dimly aware of them, as though catching movement out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t think about them. He only knelt and waited for Chopper to realize what he already knew – that Sanji was dead, he had died from his wounds sustained in the one-on-one battle that none of them witnessed.

Even with the stethoscope in his ears, Chopper leaned low over Sanji’s chest as if it would help him to hear the faintest of sounds better. For a frighteningly long moment he said nothing and didn’t move, his furry face scrunched into a deep frown of concentration, but then one ear twitched and he gave a small gasp. “There!” he breathed delicately. “I hear it! He has a very faint heartbeat…”

Zoro’s eyes went wide and his mouth fell open slightly. He didn’t want to dare to hope, even though Chopper said so. “…he’s alive?”

“For now, but I have to hurry!” Chopper shouted suddenly over his shoulder. “Luffy! Usopp! One of you guys get to the ship and get my bag! The one with my emergency medicines and stuff!”

Zoro swallowed and glanced up, finally seeing the rest of the crew. Luffy and Robin were just as scuffed-up and ragged as himself, but less bloodied. They stood in a small cluster with Nami and Usopp, staring in shock; Franky was dragging himself closer, dusting himself off and lamenting a broken pair of sunglasses, having not noticed the problem yet. Usopp startled and reacted first, yelling back an affirmation and turning to bolt down the path to the landing. Chopper dug back in his backpack for anything that might help, but he didn’t have the necessary supplies in there – bandages and antiseptic were of no use right now. Zoro shook himself out of his stupor and leaned down, placing his ear close to hear for himself, but it was hard with all the scrambling about nearby and Chopper’s flailing. There was a slight breeze, so he couldn’t even feel Sanji’s breath on his face. In frustration he took out Shuusui and held the black blade so that it nearly kissed his comrade’s lips. There, at last, he could see evidence for himself – there was the tiniest spot of mist on the metal. The wave of relief that washed through the swordsman could not be quantified, it almost swept away every shred of his composure. He quickly sheathed the sword and bent low again, placing one hand across Sanji’s cheek. The cook’s skin was clammy, but the warmth of his life force was down beneath it, somewhere. _Come on_ , he willed silently. _Stay with me…_

The soft scuff of sandals in the dirt alerted both him and Chopper to Luffy’s approach. The young captain had a blank expression on his face, but a hard look in his dark eyes. “Oi, where’s Brook?” he asked in a low tone.

“I don’t know,” Chopper answered. “Wasn’t he with Sanji?”

“Haven’t seen him,” Zoro said heavily, his head still bent over the comatose form of his comrade.

Hearing the swordsman speak, Luffy knew he had his attention. That way, other, more important questions could be asked. “What happened?”

Zoro didn’t answer right away, though he drew his hand back from the cook’s face. “Damned if I know,” he muttered. “I was on the ship. I got up there too late to see anything.”

Luffy’s eyes narrowed. “Who did this to him, then?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Still, Zoro did not look up. “The guy’s dead. Defeated. The cook won.”

Chopper suddenly startled and gasped; he had been carefully monitoring Sanji’s life signs despite conversations going on around him. “Oh no, I’m losing him!” he wailed. “Zoro! Give me a hand!”

Zoro’s head whipped toward him. “What?”

“CPR!” The little doctor waved his hooves around wildly. “Put your hands together and press on his chest! A hundred times a minute – while I…”

“I’m coming!” Usopp yelled from somewhere below them on the path. He was running up towards the cluster of people as fast as he could, dragging Chopper’s bigger bag of medical instruments with both hands on the handle. “Is this the right one, Chopper?”

“Yes! Hurry!” Chopper waved to him eagerly, and then flailed at Zoro once more. “Chest compressions! Do it!”

Swallowing his apprehension, Zoro placed one hand over the other and pressed the heel of his palm in the center of Sanji’s chest, beginning to press down at a fast pace and counting. Blood oozed from some of the cuts at the same pace, but he ignored it. Luffy backed off as Usopp burst into their midst and dropped the bag down next to their doctor, who immediately dug around in it for a syringe and the right medications. “Adrenaline,” he said under his breath to himself as he plunged the needle into Sanji’s arm. “Next I have to stop the bleeding. He’s losing too much for his heart to keep up.”

There was an obvious crack, and Zoro winced. “Shit, I think I broke his ribs,” he hissed.

“They were already broken,” Chopper noted. “Don’t stop the compressions for a second! Keep it up until I tell you to stop!”

“I-is there anything we can do?” Luffy stammered. He never stuck around to watch Chopper work, so it was mystifying and scary all at once to witness them working on Sanji.

The reindeer doctor abruptly transformed into his Heavy Point, all the better to press his larger hands down on the slashes gushing blood most freely. He had folded and wadded up bandages to help clot what wounds he could. “We’ll need to get him back to the ship, I’ll have to do surgery,” he replied over his shoulder. “You guys build some kind of stretcher so we can carry him back without worse damage.”

Franky was near enough to overhear that. “Roger, I’m on it!” he proclaimed. “Long-nose, give me a hand!”

He turned and started jogging down to the water and the ship, where everything he could need for such a simple construction task awaited. Usopp sagged for a moment. “Back to the ship? But I was just there!” Nevertheless, he set out after him at the same running pace once the complaint was out of his mouth.

Zoro diligently kept up the steady pace of compressions, wondering if he’d heard right and whether CPR was supposed to include breathing for the patient. But all he had been told to do was press, while Chopper administered shots of adrenaline and other medications to keep Sanji’s heart from stopping and did his best to hastily wrap the worst wounds so they would stop bleeding. He still had the stethoscope dangling from his ears, though in his larger form it was just swinging free, not monitoring anything. He had to stop and check now and then, and after a bit he finally signaled Zoro to stop. The swordsman sat back on his heels, his bloodied hands sagging into his lap. “Is he all right?”

Chopper shrank back down and leaned in with the stethoscope. “Yeah, I think we did it,” he breathed. “He’s stabilized for the moment. I’m not going to do too much out here where’s all dusty and dirty – just wrap him up.”

Disembodied hands sprang up out of the ground around him. Robin’s booted heels stepped closer to them. “I can help hold bandages down,” she said softly, towering over them with her arms crossed elegantly in the Hana-Hana pose.

Chopper gladly took the help and directed where all those extra hands should press, hold, and tie. Seeing that the cook was in good hands, Zoro pushed himself to his feet, his breath hitching a little at the pain in his side. Though he hadn’t fought anywhere near as hard or as long as anyone else, his lingering wounds from the last ordeal were still troubling him, especially after exerting himself. He swallowed it, though, because compared to Sanji, he was fine and needed no help. As he looked up, he noticed Luffy still standing there just out of the way, watching; Nami was further down, arms wrapped around herself as she stared at Sanji’s figure prone on the ground. “What happened to you guys?” the swordsman grunted.

Luffy shook himself alert and looked at him. “We were exploring just like we said,” he explained. “There were all kinds of booby traps and dangerous things, but in the end we didn’t find anything.”

“So you’re not all beat up from fighting,” Zoro noted.

“Mainly from our adventures,” Robin put in. “Franky came to us just as we left the cave to tell us the ship had been attacked.”

“Ah. Yeah.” Zoro’s gaze traveled down to Sanji once more, and the work Robin’s power and Chopper’s skill were busy with. “I took care of those.”

“You’re still injured from the last time,” Chopper groused at him while he worked, “you shouldn’t be doing that.”

“I wasn’t just going to stand there and let them wreck the ship,” Zoro snarled.

“The ship can be fixed,” Luffy said flatly.

“So can I.” Zoro huffed; his anger wasn’t meant for them, he was simply on edge and would remain so until Sanji was conscious. He looked away from his captain. “They were trying to steal all our treasure, I just stopped them.”

Predictably, Nami heard that and bristled. “They were _what?_ ”

Zoro was not in the mood for her greed. “Shouldn’t you be on the ship before the log pose resets?”

“What? No, I’m safe!” Nami insisted, her anger ebbing. “This isn’t a real island, which is why the log pose didn’t point to it in the first place. It’s an artificial island built on a coral reef.”

That earned another harrumph and a look away. Chopper waved up at the swordsman. “Zoro, give me a hand again. Hold him still so he doesn’t thrash around.”

Zoro glanced down, wondering what the issue was when Sanji was still clearly out cold. Yet, he moved to obey, stepping above Sanji’s head and crouching down to grip his shoulders, one of the few places not torn to shreds. A faint scent of flowers drifted past on the air as Robin’s extra hands popped out of existence, no longer needed. Chopper was, in fact, setting broken bones, and the hard, quick motions of his Heavy Point hands made the body beneath jerk and writhe even through his unconscious state. Zoro held him still with very gentle hands, finally daring to believe that his crewmate would live. He remained there even after Chopper finished and shrank back down, cupping his hands around Sanji’s face and bending low over him, listening to be sure he was still breathing. He was, albeit slowly and shallowly. There were too many people around, so Zoro had to continue holding in what he really wanted to do, but in that position, he could let his thumb brush across Sanji’s cheek beneath his hair, where it was hidden from view. Chopper was only sitting by monitoring his patient’s vital signs while they waited for the stretcher, and noticed Zoro’s unusual position, but couldn’t quite make out what he was whispering to Sanji. Robin also noticed, and silently turned away to pick a careful path back down the slope to where Nami was. Luffy, on the other hand, edged in closer. “What’s going to happen now, Chopper?”

“He needs surgery,” Chopper replied softly. “It’s pretty bad, Luffy.”

“But…” Luffy blinked widely. “…who’s going to make dinner, then?”

Nobody answered him for a moment, but nobody needed to. It was a rhetorical question, Luffy’s way of expressing concern for his crewmate. After a bit, though, Robin offered, “I’m not a very good cook, but I might be able to manage in his place for a little while.”

“Out of the way! Emergency response team coming through!” Franky’s shout echoed all the way up the path, turning every head but Zoro’s. He and Usopp were jogging back up to everyone, looking rather proud of themselves, with the stretcher slung over the cyborg’s shoulders.

“Oh, good!” Chopper got up and waved to them. “Hurry! I have to get him on the ship and get to work, fast!”

Franky unloaded a rather well-made sling attached to two poles, laying it out immediately beside Sanji’s prone figure. At Chopper’s direction, he and Zoro worked together to carefully lift the cook’s broken body and shift it over about a foot onto the stretcher, and then Franky and Luffy volunteered to do the actual carrying – the reindeer doctor refused to let Zoro do any more heavy lifting in his condition. He stood aside with a hard look on his face as Chopper ordered the other two to pick up the stretcher just-so in order to keep from jostling Sanji, and dictated their journey all the way downhill to the shore and the ship. Robin fell into step alongside them, flicking her wrist to call up a few extra hands to rest over Sanji’s shoulders, arms, and legs to keep him stable inside the sling. Chopper went with them, leaving Usopp to gather up his medical bag and bring it along. In the end, only Zoro and Nami stood on the slope, the former gazing absently after the cluster of crew, the latter gazing up at him. After a moment, Nami marched up to him and got in his face. “Zoro! What the hell happened?”

Zoro still didn’t look at her. “I said I don’t know,” he muttered. “I got there after the fight was over.”

“Is he…” Her face softened. “…how bad is it, really?”

Zoro’s jaw clenched for a moment, and then he finally shifted hard, dark eyes to her face. “I thought he was dead,” he said bluntly.

Nami stared at him, disturbed. “You mean…when you found him.”

Zoro only grunted in response. He had checked for a heartbeat and believed the worst. Part of him still expected Chopper to come out of surgery saying he couldn’t be saved. Then, he heard a patter of rocks on the slope and a stir of movement, and flicked Wadou Ichimonji out of its sheath in an instant. But the figure that emerged from the scrub and scree wasn’t a threat – the tall skeleton loomed up suddenly, brushing himself off. “Oh, my,” Brook said nonchalantly. “I seem to have missed quite a lot of the action.”

“Brook!” Nami exclaimed in exasperation. “Where have you been?”

“Forgive me, Miss Nami,” Brook sighed with a vague bow. “I was, you could say, out cold.” Zoro raised an eyebrow at him, so he continued. “You see, Sanji and I were exploring, looking for any sign of civilization on this nasty little rock, when we got separated. And then I was attacked by this huge mountain of a man with a sword that looked more like a broadaxe – it was huge! And so was he! I was scared out of my skin…” He paused. “…except, of course, I don’t have skin.”

Zoro did his best to restrain the urge to punch him when he cackled at his own joke. “A man with an enormous sword,” he repeated sullenly. The man with the broken neck had a rather large, flat, axe-like blade lying next to him, broken cleanly in two. “How did you escape only being knocked out?”

“It wasn’t by choice, I assure you,” Brook replied. “I did my best to fight him, but you see, I’m so light that when he swung that sword at me, it knocked me probably twenty feet away.” His bony fingers came up and wiggled his jawbone. “I’m going to need a few repairs, that’s for sure. He must have left me for dead, because that was when Sanji came onto the scene, and, well…”

“So Sanji fought him,” Nami said quietly, preventing Brook from making another “but I’m already dead” joke. “He must have.”

“Idiot,” Zoro said heavily. “He knows he’s shit against swordsmen.”

“Oh,” Brook said with a sudden change in tone, to a wise and almost awed air. “But he fought so well. I was astonished at his strength and determination. He made an expert swordsman like me look like a rank amateur with his masterful feet.”

“Wait a minute,” Nami interrupted. “How could you have watched the fight if you were out cold?”

Brook pointed one digit at the empty holes of his eye sockets. “Even when I’m knocked down and can’t move, I can still see. Or not see, if you understand. Actually, I didn’t see half the fight, it took me a while to roll myself over.” His voice softened again with that eerie, wistful tone. “You asked what happened. I did see the end. But seeing as there’s a body up there in the clearing and our dear cook has been carried on a stretcher to the _Sunny_ , the details of that fight are not necessary.” He dusted off his coat once more, straightened his hat, and then turned to Nami directly. “Did you find anything on your search?”

“Oh…n-no,” Nami said with a shake of her head. “There were a lot of weird traps in the caves to keep people out, but we got through them and there was nothing. I’m beginning to think it’s not true at all, there’s no treasure here.”

“So we wasted our time,” Zoro growled, “and the cook nearly got killed for it.”

“Ah, maybe. Maybe not,” Brook said vaguely.

Nami shook her head again and turned away from them, starting down the path. “I’m going to go see how he’s doing. It’s getting late, you two should get back to the ship, too.”

Once she was out of earshot, Brook spoke up once more. “I did see everything of value.”

Zoro was gazing back down towards the ship again, as if ignoring the skeleton. “Sorry I didn’t see you lying around there. I was kind of distracted.”

“Oh, it’s no worry. I can understand. You had a very important task to carry out.” Brook stared at him for a moment, and then followed Nami down. Zoro peered at his crewmate’s back, wondering if he meant he had seen the moment in which Zoro had stumbled on the bloody scene. He hadn’t seen anyone else around, so of course he might have said a few things aloud that he wouldn’t have wanted anyone in the crew overhearing, in his attempt to wake Sanji. His eye twitched in hidden anger, but he banished it with a deep breath and ambled down the path to the sea. The sun was indeed getting low in the sky, and even if their cook wasn’t going to be able to make dinner for them, it was best to be off this island before nightfall. They hadn’t expected to be attacked at all, so there was no telling what further surprises night would bring.

It was too late for them to set sail, so the _Thousand Sunny_ remained docked at anchor there in the bay, standing off shore with her sails trimmed. Everyone else was doing their best to keep a distance and stay busy while they waited for news, but Zoro marched straight through them and went looking for the room where Chopper was hard at work – not the tiny infirmary next to the galley, but a spare utility room below decks with more space in which to perform delicate surgery. He didn’t listen to any of them try to call him back, and did not hesitate to open the door and barge right in. Chopper looked up sharply and then snarled at him. “Zoro! Get out of here, you’re not sterile! You’ve got blood all over you!”

“So?” Zoro didn’t press in too far, he merely stood in the doorway as if standing guard, or waiting there for results. “Most of it is his, anyway.”

Robin was also in the room, drying her hands on a towel. “You really shouldn’t be in here, though. Chopper’s right.”

“Then what are you doing in here?” Zoro asked accusingly.

“Robin is going to help me!” Chopper snapped. “She’s smart and knows how to follow orders, unlike certain people I know! If you’re hurt again, you’ll have to wait until I’m done with Sanji before I can take care of you.”

Zoro winced very slightly. “I’m not hurt…”

Chopper peered at him, as if seeing through him. “You reopened some of your wounds, didn’t you?”

Grimacing, Zoro looked away. He had, in fact, from the exertion of fighting onboard the ship earlier. Robin came closer to him, barring his access to Sanji. “Please, Zoro. Surgery is very delicate work, and has to be done in a clean environment.”

Though he was content with them believing he was there for medical attention, Zoro was not about to back down even in the face of logic. He pulled his three swords free of the strap at his hip, preparing to set them somewhere. “I’ll sit in the corner over there and wait.”

Robin held his steely gaze, also not about to back down. But her voice gentled, and her blue eyes softened. “A compromise,” she offered. “If you’ll sit just outside, right by the door…I’ll let you know the moment it’s safe to come in.”

Zoro mulled it over without lowering his eyes, and then gave the barest of nods before turning and stepping out the door. He set his swords against the wall and then sat down next to them, curling his arms around his knees. Only a bead of sweat on his neck revealed that sitting thus was actually painful for him, but he did it anyway. Robin glanced down at him with something akin to pity before closing the door.

Night drew on and a quiet calm settled over the ship. It felt like hours passed, though it wasn’t nearly that long at all. While Zoro waited in his silent vigil, the others did what they could to put together something resembling dinner, which was mostly sandwiches and anything else that didn’t have to be cooked. With Robin assisting Chopper, the only one who had any passable kitchen experience was Usopp, who didn’t take Luffy’s complaints about how he wasn’t Sanji too well. He took it on himself to make sure everyone got something, at least, even going down to the makeshift surgery room to see if Chopper was done yet and whether everyone down there needed food. Naturally, he didn’t even get past the door. He came back up to the grass-covered deck with the last sandwich on a tray, looking over his shoulder as if expecting a shadow to chase him out from the lower corridors of the ship, into the midst of the rest of the crew clustered together in an informative conversation. “Man, that’s really weird,” he said, interrupting them. “Zoro actually said he wasn’t hungry. That’s not like him at all! Luffy, he said you could have his…”

Rubber arms had already stretched out and grabbed the sandwich before he had even said the captain’s name. Luffy stuffed the sandwich in his mouth first, and then remarked off-handedly, “Yeah, that’s really weird.”

“That’s what I said,” Usopp grumbled.

“Maybe he found something to eat while we were all gone,” Luffy offered, his attention still elsewhere.

“Do you ever think about anything besides food?” Nami groused at him. “We’re in the middle of something here! So what you’re saying, then,” she said to Franky, turning to him, “Is that _we_ went into a cave full of booby traps to look for treasure and found nothing, while _you_ fought a bunch of guys who said there _is_ treasure on this island?”

“Hey, I’m just telling you what happened here,” Franky insisted with a casual toss of his hand. “Those guys attacked the ship to keep us from getting at their captain’s treasure. When they realized we were pirates too, they went after anything we had.”

“But then, where is it? If it’s not in that cave…”

“Maybe it’s in that guy’s house,” Luffy reasoned. “He’s gotta have a house around here somewhere.”

“It’s not,” Brook said definitively. “Sanji and I did find their lair, but there was nothing there either – not even a map.”

“Then the only person who could say where the treasure is…is the guy Sanji killed,” Nami sighed. “Assuming he was the captain, anyway – but it makes sense, since he was the only one who stayed back while the others tried to board _Sunny_.”

“And Zoro took care of most of those,” Franky said in conclusion. He was still idly fiddling with the broken sunglasses, frowning over them. “Don’t misunderstand me, I got a few good hits in too, but thanks to him none of them got away alive.”

“How many were there?” Usopp asked him.

“Not that many. Two or three real big, tough ones, maybe ten in all. Less than ten.” The cyborg scowled at his glasses. “I swear, if he hadn’t already gotten rid of all of ‘em, I’d find the one who stepped on my shades and give him a Strong Right he’d never forget.”

“It was probably Zoro,” Brook said off-handedly.

“This doesn’t make any sense!” Nami tossed up her hands. “How do we know those guys weren’t lying? And the only one who could have told us the truth is dead. Where else on this tiny rock could they be hiding a treasure that they’d give their lives to protect?”

Luffy nodded sagely. “It’s a mystery island, all right.”

“For once, I’d say you’re right,” Usopp said with a roll of his eyes.

Nami rubbed her chin as she thought. “The log pose won’t reset itself here because this is an artificial island. So it’s safe to keep exploring for as long as we want. There has to be some kind of clue _some_ where – maybe in the lair.”

Brook shook his head. “I already ransacked it, looking for the same thing. You’re welcome to look again, but I doubt you’ll find it there.” Nami was about to argue with him, but then he drew a rolled piece of parchment from inside his coat (and possibly his rib cage). “Because it was on the person of the man our dear cook killed.”

Nami started for him with stars in her eyes, but the reminder of Sanji and his current state sobered her momentarily. Usopp gaped at the skeleton. “You looted the body?! Gross!”

“Well, there wasn’t much else to be done with him, then,” Brook said nonchalantly. He crossed through the center of the group and held out the parchment to Nami and Luffy. “I hate to think what our friend and crewmate went through just to make it easy for me to snatch this, but here it is. It would be a shame not to use it.”

Because of Nami’s hesitation, Luffy almost grabbed the paper first, but she recovered in time to take it away and look it over – because if it was a map, it was automatically her jurisdiction. “I don’t know,” Usopp said warily. “Like you say…Sanji almost got killed because of that treasure. I bet it’s not even worth it. We should set sail right away and keep going toward Mermaid Island – at least we know that one’s coming up!”

“You’re just afraid of what other traps might be protecting that treasure,” Franky deadpanned.

“So what if I am? Who’s going to be the next one of us lying down there in surgery!” Usopp shot back. “This isn’t like all our other fights, this is just over some stupid treasure!”

Nami glared at him. “ _Stupid_ treasure? Treasure is what keeps us going!”

“So? We got plenty from _Thriller Bark_ , we still have to cash all that in!”

They continued to bicker for a moment, but Franky turned to Luffy, who was sitting on a barrel just sort of taking everything in for once and not bouncing around like a dork. “It’s the captain’s decision, whether we should stay and hunt for treasure or pack up our losses and split. What do you say, Luffy?”

“Hm?” Luffy glanced back, snapping out of his thoughts. “Oh. I guess it’s okay to stay and find out whether there really is treasure or not. It’s not like we’re in a hurry to get to Mermaid Island. It’ll still be there next week.”

Nami clutched the parchment triumphantly. “Then when Robin’s done, I’ll go over this with her. We’ll find it, trust me!” She smacked Usopp in the chest with it. “It’ll be worth it, you’ll see. Sanji _did_ go through a lot to get it, so the right way to thank him is to make the most of it and find that treasure.”

“He did the hardest part,” Brook put in. “He already defeated the most dangerous person on the island. There shouldn’t be anyone left to get in our way.”

“Just more booby traps, I’ll bet,” Usopp huffed. “You know how I’ve got I-Can’t-Go-Near-Booby-Traps disease real bad at a time like this.”

“Come on,” Franky openly scoffed, “you and me are the best team to crack any traps anyone else invented! How bad were the ones in the cave, really?”

Usopp made a face to indicate that he wasn’t looking forward to more of whatever they had already encountered. Luffy laughed at it. Nami disappeared behind the parchment, leaving the others to dissolve their conference and veer off onto other, less urgent topics. They all had stories to tell of their day’s adventures apart from each other, but it was hard to do so without bringing up Sanji over and over again. By now, the repeated mentions had made Nami almost regret thinking about treasure instead of him. Almost. For now, she pretended it wasn’t affecting her at all and diverted her attention to deciphering the clues as to the whereabouts of the rumored treasure.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door creaked open and Robin stepped out of the temporary operating room. Zoro lifted his head immediately, but he didn’t even need to ask. She gave him a look that was mostly solemn, and then extended a hand to invite him into the room. He grabbed his swords and dragged them in with him, but left them leaning on the wall inside as he prowled through the door and over to where Chopper was just finishing up. He had Sanji stretched out on a table and stripped of his shirt, making it all the more obvious just how injured he was. Bandages swathed his torso from around the center of his chest down past the waistband of his pants, and a few more peeped through the tears in his trousers showing where the lacerations to his thighs had been wrapped up. He was still out cold, but the blood on his face and the few places on his shoulders and arms not covered in bandages had been cleaned up. His blond hair covered the one plaster protecting a cut to his scalp. Zoro crossed straight to him and stood over him, looking him over as if to inspect Chopper’s work. He wanted to reach out and touch, but he wouldn’t with others in the room. Chopper finished putting away his instruments and clapped his front hooves together concludingly. “There, that takes care of that. Your turn, Zoro. Get over here.”

“Mm?” Zoro glanced at him, and idly pressed a hand to his chest. His injuries from _Thriller Bark_ were primarily internal, though he was still swaddled in a number of bandages himself underneath his shirt. “I’m fine. How is he?”

Chopper looked down at Sanji’s unconscious form. “He’s about where you were, a week ago,” he replied quietly. “He’ll live, and probably won’t have any really bad scars either, but it’s going to take some time. As long as he wakes up in the next couple of days.”

Zoro’s dark eyes focused on him with the slightest hint of worry. “There’s a chance he couldn’t?”

“He lost a lot of blood, and there’s no telling how long his heart really stopped, if it did.” For all his intelligence and superb medical technique, Chopper was still young and full of feeling, sweet and sympathetic instead of coldly professional. He couldn’t help but look sad, his lip quivering the tiniest bit. “He’s going to need a lot of rest, now. I’ve done everything I could – now it’s up to Sanji.”

Zoro stood there for a moment, and then lifted a hand and brushed it across Sanji’s brow. “Then he’ll live,” he stated flatly. “He won’t abandon us if he has the choice.”

Chopper nodded solemnly in agreement. “Okay. Now let me look at your wounds – if you reopened any, I have to stitch them back up.”

Zoro lingered for only a moment and then stepped around the table, submitting to Chopper’s directions and care. He sat on a stool while the little doctor fussed over him, scolding him for straining his injuries and popping stitches while urgently wrapping him back up. The rush of adrenaline was fading, leaving Zoro drained and feeling every last shift of emotion almost viscerally, his head drooping and eyes focused on nothing in front of him. He was starting to worry that he might do something foolish in front of one of the others, with his defenses lowered and the person he cared for so near death. At last, Chopper patted his back and pronounced him good to go, so Zoro pulled his shirt back on and stood up. Robin had left them some time ago, he didn’t even hear her go, so it was just him and the doctor with Sanji now. The cook lay still, quiet, stable, though the light pace of his breathing and pallor of his skin was worrisome. Zoro stood there beside the table gazing at him for a bit, and then heaved a soft sigh. “Are you just going to leave him here?”

“Oh…no,” Chopper answered while bustling about cleaning up bloody bandages and getting tools ready to be re-sterilized. “Actually, can you help me with that? I don’t want to carry him too far in this state, it would be dangerous to try to haul him up two decks. We need to set up a bed in here for now.” He gestured to a stack of threadbare mattresses in the far corner, extra supplies taken on for the growing crew. Zoro waved a dismissive hand at them and went looking for something more appropriate, in the end having to go up and get Franky’s assistance one more time. The shipwright was able to whip together a temporary bed frame out of ship’s supplies even further below decks, all while Zoro stood by expectantly and Chopper monitored his patient. It was a strange twist, to be sure, but Chopper absolutely insisted that the cook was in no shape to be carried upstairs to the infirmary where a bed already existed for long-term patient care. In no time, they had a spare bed to go with the temporary operating room. Before he could even transform to Heavy Point to help Zoro carry, the swordsman had already gathered his comrade up in his arms much as he had brought him down from the hilltop. No amount of scolding for pushing himself right after getting fixed back up got through to him, he simply turned and brought Sanji over to the bed, laying him out where he would be comfortable. Chopper stared curiously at the gentleness of his movements, the easy way he carried the cook and the near-tenderness he showed at even wanting to, and then blinked in surprise when Zoro located a box, dragged it next to the bed, and sat down as if to wait. “Zoro…?”

“It’s okay if I stay here, right, Chopper?” Zoro asked heavily without turning his head.

“Um…yeah, it’s fine.” The little doctor joined him, checking Sanji over once more and then tucking him in. “Actually, since you’re still hurt, you should probably stay here, too. I’ll get out another mattress.”

Zoro grunted to show he heard, though he had no intention of sleeping. He was going to sit right there next to the bed until Sanji awoke, however long it took. He didn’t move while Chopper dragged another spare mattress to that side of the utility room, didn’t twitch a muscle while the doctor set up a bed and then came to check on both of them one more time, didn’t make a sound in reaction when Chopper demanded he get some sleep and then gave up and told him he would regret it if he sat there too long. But even Chopper realized that it might be to everyone’s benefit if someone was staying to watch over Sanji, so he let the swordsman be and declared that he was going up to get something to eat and would be back later to keep watch so the other could sleep. Finally, at long last, Zoro was left alone with his injured crewmate.

The room was mostly dark, but for a lamp left lit on the operating table. Sanji lay perfectly still, the only proof that he was still alive the shallow rise and fall of his bandaged chest. For a few moments Zoro remained still as well, gazing at him, but at last he sat forward and brushed his fingertips along Sanji’s cheek as if brushing away loose strands of hair. He had to press his hand to his friend’s neck to check his pulse, just once more, and was heartened to actually feel it this time – not strong and warm like it should have been, but it was there, keeping a steady pace. His touch wandered, whether or not it was a good idea, passing over Sanji’s barely-parted lips and his scruffy chin, then cupping his cheek and feeling the lack of warmth. He hadn’t felt this clammy in ages, not without a good near-drowning first. Zoro drew back after a bit and picked up the hand resting near him on the bed instead. Neither of them had ever shown each other this kind of sign of affection, for Zoro was not the type and Sanji still believed that sort of thing was reserved for a woman. Not that they hadn’t entwined fingers in a moment of passion, but that was different. For now, Zoro held the hand gingerly, turning the palm to the light to see if there were any cuts or scrapes on it, then folding it warmly between both of his and bringing it to his lips. All he did was rest the backs of those fingers against his face; his gaze, however, remained fixed on Sanji’s face, watching patiently for the slightest twitch of movement, any change in his state either positive or negative. His statement to Chopper had been sincere – he had all faith that Sanji would bring himself out of this, if he could. This was a test of his strength, and only the cook himself would know whether he could pass it. It meant Zoro had to wait, when waiting wasn’t one of his better skills. His thoughts began to deepen, and the longer he sat and watched, the more profound they grew.

Whatever went on between them, the thing they had no name for and didn’t want to label, it had been going on behind the backs of the crew for some time. Neither could really remember when it started, unless they chose to count the first day clothes were thrown off and bodies ravaged in a storeroom below decks. Each insisted it was nothing but physical passion, but recent events had shown them what they were denying to themselves. A connection had formed, there was no way to ignore it anymore. The stab of fear that went through him when he found his comrade lying in a pool of blood, and couldn’t find a heartbeat, was proof enough, to say nothing of the grief-stricken words he muttered and screamed to the cook’s lifeless body before picking him up and taking him to the others. And now here he was, stubbornly holding vigil even though he was exhausted and sore himself. Zoro wondered if, a week ago on _Thriller Bark_ , Sanji had sat beside him much the same, checking over the bandages, waiting for eyes to open and life to return to his own face. He had said nothing about it, and Zoro didn’t ask. Now, so soon after, their roles were reversed. He didn’t like it at all. He hated actually feeling worry, doubt, and fear. Not that he disbelieved Sanji would make it, but the feelings still encroached on his mind unbidden, against his will and against his sense of faith. At least they didn’t linger long, fading gradually while he reminisced about their repeated encounters and the things they privately snarked and smirked and laughed about when no one else was around to see or hear. There was no grief, not now that he could feel the life still beating in his comrade’s veins, only concern and a vague sense of remorse that he hadn’t dispatched those underlings quicker and gone in search of the others the moment he felt the tingle of foreboding. But for a man like Zoro, regret was useless. He simply took it as a lesson that he had to get stronger, so that he would heal faster and not suffer such wounds in the first place. Then he could keep his crewmates from ending up like this. But this fight was Sanji’s to learn from, he decided, and sealed his conclusion with a press of his lips to the backs of the fingers held between his hands. It was enough; he let go and gently folded Sanji’s hand on his chest so he could sleep unmolested. And just in time, too, for a few seconds later the door creaked and Chopper let himself into the room, patting his tiny tummy. “Boy, I hope Sanji wakes up soon. Usopp can barely boil noodles,” he chirped. “Oh…Zoro. You’re not asleep yet? What are you doing, dummy?”

“Sitting here,” Zoro replied gruffly. “It’s not hurting anything.”

He yawned, then, unable to stifle it. Chopper came up alongside him. “Don’t be stubborn,” he scolded. “Go to bed, Zoro. Robin helped make coffee, so I can sit up with Sanji for a while.”

Zoro remained sitting for a moment, going still again, his gaze focused on Sanji’s face. He was thinking, calculating how long _he_ had been out and remembering that Chopper had earlier said the cook was essentially in the same strait. That meant he wasn’t likely to wake up in the next few hours, regardless. Realizing that, Zoro pushed himself to his feet and turned, finding the mattress laid out just a couple of paces away. “Fine,” he sighed as he tottered those few steps and collapsed on his side on the mattress, “your turn, then. Let me know if he wakes up.” He closed his eyes, and was actually asleep within seconds. Chopper stood there blinking at him for a brief moment, and then climbed onto the vacated seat on the box to assume the vigil.

  


Most of the crew assumed Zoro to be a heavy sleeper who didn’t like to be roused too early in the morning, and most of the time they were right. He kept his own schedule, and somehow his internal clock knew best when to wake and when to ignore everything and keep on sleeping. Perhaps that was why none of them thought to go down to the temporary infirmary to see if he wanted to join the treasure raid that was slowly taking shape. Since their cook was still unconscious, there was no one to get up early and start breakfast, leading to Luffy whining and Usopp yelling at him and then Nami yelling at all of them to shut up. Eventually, Robin and Usopp joined forces to attempt something edible, as best they could, but by that time it was much later in the morning than they were accustomed to having breakfast, and all of them privately thought about how much they took Sanji for granted. Being as Zoro never showed his face anywhere near the kitchen or the main deck to hear any of this, they believed him to be still sleeping and decided that if he wanted to be part of the plan, he would wake up and show up at the last second like he usually did. This time, however, they were wrong.

Morning had just barely crept over the sea and lit the windows of the ship when Zoro drifted awake, instantly remembering where he was and why. He shifted his head to look and see whether there had been any improvements in the night, and blinked impassively when he noticed that Chopper was not exactly sitting up with his patient. Sanji was still out, no surprise there, but the little reindeer doctor was now curled up next to him on the bed like a stuffed toy, having slumped forward out of his seat as he succumbed to sleep and eventually inched so that no part of him was touching the box any longer. Zoro swallowed the momentary twinge of feeling at the sight, though his dark eyes softened. He laid for a moment mentally inspecting himself, and when he was sure his own health had improved plenty, he got up and eased the two steps sideways to put himself back into his seat. He was still there when Chopper eventually awoke with a snort and flailed about not being able to keep his eyes open until the swordsman held out a hand to quiet him. “Easy,” he murmured, “it’s fine. Stop thrashing around, you’re going to disturb him.”

Chopper immediately went still, blinking his eyes hugely. “Oh. Right. Ah – Zoro! What are you doing up already?”

Zoro shrugged stiffly. “I got plenty of sleep, I feel fine.”

Chopper eyeballed him but relented. “Then make yourself useful and go and get my bag. I want to check Sanji over before anything else.”

He turned and started looking over his patient with his own unaided senses. Figuring he might as well help, Zoro pushed himself to his feet and crossed the room to get the doctor’s standard bag of medical instruments, which was still there from the night before. He slumped right back into his spot the instant he made the delivery, and sat back to watch Chopper do his thing. It was better if he didn’t interfere. After a few minutes, he asked in a low tone, “How’s he doing?”

“Stable,” Chopper reported over his shoulder as he finished and put his stethoscope and other tools away. “As long as there’s no change for the worse, then it’s fine. I think I’ll wait a little bit to change his bandages, but that should be done soon.” He turned and set his hooves on hips. “What about you, then?”

“Me? I’m fine,” Zoro assured.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” The little reindeer promptly jumped onto Zoro’s lap and started poking him, looking for twinges of pain that weren’t normal. Zoro managed to hold still, though, so Chopper pronounced him acceptable for now and hopped off onto the floor. “Are you hungry? Why haven’t you gone up to get any breakfast?”

“Is anybody even making any?” Zoro grumbled. Whatever the pangs in his stomach might say, he wasn’t hungry for any cooking that wasn’t Sanji’s. Not out of any sense of loyalty, he just figured no one else in the crew could be capable of making anything edible. “I’m fine. I’m not hungry. If you are, go on and get something, I’ll stay here.”

Chopper stood and stared at him for a long time, very clearly scrutinizing him for some obvious evidence of why he was acting so strangely. Finding none, he shrugged and left the swordsman to do as he pleased while he went up to see if anyone was making breakfast, or if he’d have to roust Usopp out of bed and make big watery eyes at him. After a long while, he came back with a tray, hoping that maybe if he brought breakfast in, Zoro would finally eat something. It took throwing his weight around as the doctor knowing what was best for his patient, but at last the toast and fruit were taken and the hot tea nursed for a while. Chopper breathed a sigh of relief and muttered something about stubborn swordsmen before taking the tray back up to the galley.

While things below remained more or less unchanged, up on deck the plans for making use of the map Brook had found coalesced into action. It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that they settled on who was going and geared up to head out. Chopper came up from another cursory check of his patients to find the rest of the crew gathered in a circle, finalizing their strategy. Luffy had a backpack on, Usopp’s satchel was looking much fuller, and Nami had grabbed a jacket. “Okay!” she declared. “That should do it. We’d better get moving if we want to make it back before dark. Oh, Chopper – did you want to go along?”

The doctor brightened up for a moment, but then sobered just as quickly. “Um…I don’t think I should leave while Sanji is still unconscious.”

“That’s probably a smart idea,” Usopp agreed. “What about Zoro? Where is that guy, anyway?”

“He’s…still in the infirmary, too,” Chopper replied.

Luffy stared at him, perplexed. “I thought he wasn’t hurt that badly.”

“He’s not,” Chopper insisted. “I don’t know what’s the matter with him. All day he’s been sitting next to Sanji’s bed, it’s like he’s waiting for him to wake up.”

Most of the crew shared confused glances with each other. “That’s weird,” Nami said for all of them.

Robin tapped a finger on her chin. “Though, if I remember right…didn’t our cook take his turn sitting with Zoro when _he_ was injured, not too long ago?”

Nami frowned. “ _Sanji?_ Did he, really?”

Chopper blinked up at her. “So you’re saying, maybe he’s paying Sanji back for that…?”

“Oh, is that all.” Luffy nodded proudly. “That sounds like something Zoro would do. Okay, then, I won’t bother him. We’ll just have to go without him.”

“The rest of us can take care of ourselves, we don’t need him,” Franky boasted, giving them a thumbs-up. “All set, captain?”

“Guys, are we sure this is a good idea?” Usopp worried for the eight hundredth time. “We don’t know for sure whether there are any more booby traps waiting for us…”

“Come on, Usopp!” Luffy scolded, pointing boldly at him. “Don’t you want to go treasure hunting?!”

“Of course I do, don’t be stupid!” Usopp shot back. “I’m the best treasure hunter on this ship! But but but…what if it’s _scary?_ ”

“If it was scary, Nami wouldn’t be going,” Luffy said bluntly.

The girl beside him shrugged. “He’s right.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re going.”

“Sanji and Zoro took care of everyone who was on this island,” Nami reasoned. “Thanks to those two, they’re all dead, so there’s no huge threats standing in the way of my – our – treasure.”

Usopp gave her a deadpan look through narrowed eyes. “Except for traps.”

“You and Franky can handle traps!” she snapped.

“Why is it _my_ job to handle traps all of a sudden?!”

Brook’s thin voice cut across their argument. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us, Miss Robin? With the number-one swordsman staying here, the ship is well protected enough.”

Robin smiled coyly as the shouting ceased and eyes turned her way. “I’m sure the rest of you can handle it. Besides, as the only other person here who can boil water, I figure I should probably work on making dinner happen.”

Luffy’s eyes practically sparkled. “Dinner! Okay, that’s a good reason why Robin should stay here! And maybe Sanji will wake up before we get back and there’ll be a huge dinner waiting!”

“Then let’s get moving,” Nami encouraged. “If we stand around here talking too much longer, it’ll be dark out.”

The group of five chosen to investigate and hunt for treasure set out, leaving Robin and Chopper to wave at them from the deck of the ship. As promised, Robin went up to the kitchen to see what she could manage, and Chopper followed along out of curiosity. Since Sanji did all of the cooking, few knew of the meager skills Robin and Usopp might have had from their lonely years growing up fending for themselves. Robin’s assessment might have been an exaggeration; after all, Chopper knew full well how to boil water. But of the rest of the crew, she had perhaps the most experience feeding herself, which could be used to make do until the real cook was back on his feet.

Zoro had not moved much at all that day. Aside from a bathroom break and a brief stretch of his legs, he had occupied that seat on the box like it was his job. It meant he was available to assist when Chopper changed Sanji’s bandages, so he got a good look at just how badly his comrade was injured. It was extensive, but no worse than his own tended to be. For the most part Zoro spent that day sitting with his elbows on his knees, hands to himself, and only watched. Whatever he thought about through those long hours of waiting, he kept it entirely to himself and let no sign show on his stoic face. He said hardly anything to Chopper whenever the doctor came and went, not even arguing when it came time to check on his own injuries so long as it meant he would be allowed to stay there. It was quiet, and all day there was no change to Sanji’s state. Zoro could sit and watch and think, and no one bothered him. He had lost all track of time and didn’t know what was going on elsewhere on the ship until he heard a gentle knock on the door preceding someone’s entrance. He glanced over his shoulder, vaguely surprised to see that it was Robin carrying the tray. “I thought you might be hungry,” she said kindly.

Zoro gazed at her, expressionless, for a long moment, and then shrugged. He didn’t care one way or the other, and turned his attention back to Sanji while she came in and set the tray of food down on the long table that had served as the surgery bed. He didn’t stir until Robin came right up alongside him at the bedside, though it was the shirt she offered him silently that finally got his attention. He was still wearing the one splattered with Sanji’s blood. He took the offering and wrestled into it immediately, while Robin stood beside him and gazed down at their crewmate. “How is he?”

“No change,” Zoro murmured, kicking the bloodstained shirt under the bed.

A brief silence lapsed between them, stretching on until Robin bent and combed her slender fingers through Sanji’s limp blond hair. “I hope he’ll forgive me if I can’t measure up to him in the kitchen,” she said with the very slightest touch of humor to her voice. “Don’t worry, Sir Cook, I’ll take good care of your pots and pans.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow in her general direction. “What’d you make?”

“Just some rice. I’m not sure what else I should touch in his absence.” Robin withdrew and went back over to where she had left the tray with a small covered bowl of rice, a dish of pickled vegetables scrounged out of the pantry, and fresh coffee. “Luffy might complain, but I’m not very good at cooking meat.”

“Luffy can deal with it,” Zoro murmured with a touch of anger that he instantly squashed down. His eyes remained focused on Sanji’s face. “Did Chopper put you up to this? Trying to get me to eat something?”

“This is entirely my own idea,” Robin assured. “You’ve been down here all day, I thought perhaps you didn’t realize that it was dinnertime.”

Zoro lifted his head a bit. “Is it?” His eyes shifted suspiciously as he listened to the quiet of the room and the ship around them. “Then why don’t I hear Luffy making his usual ruckus?”

“He and some of the others went to hunt down the treasure we started seeking yesterday.”

The suspicion shifted to Robin. “And you didn’t go with them?”

Robin shrugged coolly. “There’s nothing of archaeological value on this artificial island.”

Zoro relented and turned back to his vigil. “So who’s all left…you, me…”

“Chopper,” Robin added, leaving Sanji unsaid because it was obvious. “The others all went. They intended to be back by nightfall, though whether or not they make it is anyone’s guess.” She watched as Zoro withdrew into himself once more and fell completely silent, apparently disinterested in a hot dinner of any kind. She gave it a few minutes before making a quiet observation aloud. “You intend to stay here with him. Until he wakes up?”

Zoro’s jaw twitched as he bit back the accusatory snarl he almost made. “Is there a problem with that?” he finally breathed.

“I find it a little…unusual, that’s all.” Robin smiled to herself as if she knew what he almost said. “You gave up the chance to go with the others on an adventure.”

The swordsman’s head bowed, and he spoke almost to himself. “There’s more important things than some damn treasure.”

“And if they get themselves into trouble?”

“Luffy’s with them.” Zoro’s statement was blunt; he believed firmly in Luffy’s ability to protect those with him, more than he believed in anything else in the world.

Robin stood there a moment longer and then stepped away, heading for the door. “I’ll leave your dinner over there, for whenever you’re ready.”

Zoro waited until he heard the door close, and then his shoulders sagged. He hadn’t realized the others had left without him, but it didn’t change things. He wouldn’t have gone, anyway. He needed no reasons or justification, he simply had chosen what he would be doing, and that decision was final. He reached to brush Sanji’s hair back into place from where Robin had slightly tousled it, and then decided that he preferred warm rice to cold and got up to retrieve the food.

The other half of the crew did not return at nightfall. Chopper had been resting at Robin’s insistence, so when he got up and realized the others weren’t back yet, he began to fret rather intensely. Only after Robin took a walk up the hill to have a look around and verify that there weren’t any major threats evident did he calm down enough to go and look after his patients below-decks. Zoro did not at all share his sense of alarm. “Maybe they decided to camp out until morning,” he said to quiet the little doctor down. “Or maybe they’re in more caves and don’t know what time it is. Relax, Chopper. Luffy’s with them anyway.”

Chopper’s flailing hooves drooped to his sides, all the thunder stolen out of his outburst. “Mm…I suppose that’s possible. But…!”

“No buts. Trust Luffy.”

“I’m still gonna keep watch tonight,” the doctor huffed under his breath as he fetched his instruments and got to work inspecting Sanji. “Just in case.”

“You do that. I’m staying here.” Zoro folded his arms brusquely over his chest. “There’s no danger left on the island anyway. My instincts tell me we’re fine.”

Chopper made a face, but as he tended to believe in Zoro’s instincts, he was placated enough for the time being. As he listened carefully to Sanji’s heart and breathing, his expression hardened into something more serious. “If you’re going to stay with him, tonight,” he said cautiously as he took the stethoscope away from his ears, “I want you to stay awake and pay attention.”

Zoro sat up. “Why? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing right now,” Chopper assured, “but I want to watch for any signs of fluid in his lungs. Raspy breathing, apnea even. It could be dangerous if he gets an infection in this state.”

“All right. I’ll watch.”

“I mean it! No falling asleep!”

Zoro waved a hand dismissively. He was certain he wouldn’t nod off, even if he wanted to. He rarely napped when keeping watch overnight on the ship, this was no different. He watched Chopper hop down and fetch a few things, moving a pitcher of water and some medications closer to the bed just in case, and his expression sobered. “Tell me the truth, Chopper. Is there something wrong with him?”

Chopper looked up, his face twisting in an uncertain frown. “Not at the moment,” he said with conviction. “But…he’s still unconscious, and that means his body has been lying motionless all this time. If any complications are going to develop, it’s going to happen within the next twenty-four hours.”

Zoro nodded once to show he understood. “I’ll keep a close eye on him,” he said firmly.

Chopper suddenly laughed and scratched the back of his head. “Wow, Zoro, I didn’t know you and Sanji got to be such good friends. You’re really worried about him.”

The swordsman’s expression went completely blank. Others might have tried to cover it up, deny it, stammer and fluster and worry that something had been noticed. Not him. “It’s nothing like that,” he murmured, lowering his gaze slightly. “This is just something I have to do.”

The doctor blinked up at him. “Is it…like what Robin said? Because Sanji sat with you when you were hurt on _Thriller Bark_ , you’re paying him back?”

The flash of surprise lit Zoro’s eyes for only a moment before he clamped down his reaction. “I don’t remember him sitting with me.”

“Of course not, you were out cold for three days.” Chopper rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, I did see him in there one time. But I didn’t think anything of it, it was just that once. Everybody came to sit by you for a little while, off and on, so I could take care of all the other people who were hurt.” His gaze drifted over his shoulder to Sanji once more, who showed no sign of even hearing any of this. “He was hurt pretty bad, too, but at least he could move around. He was already cooking a couple of hours after we all woke up. But now…”

Zoro was still gazing at Sanji as well, but he reached out a hand and patted Chopper on the top of his hat. “You’re doing a good job with everything. Don’t worry.”

Naturally, the little reindeer descended instantly into a gleeful butt-wiggle. “Shut up! You can’t get on my good side by complimenting me, don’t even try, idiot!” He snapped himself out of it quickly and took a deep breath, flexing his tiny Brain Point arms. “All right! I’m going to go up on deck and be the night watch! You stay here with Sanji, and if there’s any change – anything at all, even if you think it’s nothing – come up and get me. Got it?”

One more nod confirmed it. Satisfied, Chopper headed out, leaving the room quiet once more and Zoro alone again with his comrade. This time, he inched the crate closer and leaned in to look closely at Sanji, scrutinizing him and memorizing it so that if anything did change in the middle of the night, he would know. Calming himself as though meditating, Zoro listened to the shallow rhythm of Sanji’s breathing and, half-entranced, mapped the curve of his eyebrow and the part of his lips, the static position of his eyelashes – everything that might change in an instant. As he snapped himself alert again, he reached for the hand lying limp on the blanket and turned it in his to let his thumb brush over the wrist and feel his pulse, to know its rhythm as intimately as his own. At long last, he broke the silence between them, speaking in his low, serious murmur. “Is it true?” he wondered. “Did you sit by me while I was asleep, then?” Not that he expected an answer; it needed to be asked, while he was thinking of it. “It’s bad enough you had to see me like that…although. I’m glad it was you, and nobody else.”

It was something that had crossed his mind, in the days following their departure from the ship of nightmares. No matter what was going on between him and the cook in private, of anyone in the crew, he was silently grateful that fate made it so Sanji was the person who found him bloodied and near death. Sanji was the only one who would have understood, despite his constant grousing about how he _didn’t_ understand why Zoro did what he did. The cook’s sensitive heart may have been dealt a blow seeing that awful sight, but it was better than one of the others. One of the faint-hearted, who might panic. One of the newcomers who didn’t know him quite as well. Or Luffy. Somehow it would have been worse in Zoro’s estimation for him to see what Sanji had seen. Better the lover than the captain, though his respect for both was nearly equal. Sanji was smart, and knew how to control his emotions when the situation called for it. Turnabout, then, truly was fair play, for Zoro to be the one to find him yesterday. He laid that hand back on the bed and left his resting on top of it, imparting his warmth to the clammy skin. “I never really did thank you for my life,” he continued after a pensive pause. “Seems like this is the only way I’m ever going to be able to say it to your face.” Yet, he didn’t, exactly. He had already said enough.

It felt strange to want to keep talking, and yet Zoro did. He valued silence, but at that moment he couldn’t stand another second of it. “You’ve gotta get yourself out of this,” he said with an urgent edge to his tone. “Chopper’s done all he could, now it’s up to you. Don’t let that small fry beat you, wake up already!” He gritted his teeth, reining in his anger. “You’re better than him. He cut you, but you killed him. You’d better wake up soon, or I won’t forgive you.” He sighed, then, bowing his head. “No, that’s stupid. People say that a lot but I don’t know how often they mean it. I usually do, but not this time.”

He gave it a few moments, even though the man lying prone would not engage in conversation. He withdrew his hand and laced his fingers together, leaning forward with his chin rested on the back of his hands. “I hate this. You’re making me worry and I hate it. This would be so much easier if you’d just wake up, then I’d know you were fine and I could get on with my shit.” Zoro’s eyes drifted closed. “But I can’t leave until I know.”

That was all he could manage to say. The silence that followed stretched into minutes, and then an hour and more. Zoro shifted a little now and then, and even got up to pace once, but he maintained his vigil with the same diligence he required when guarding the ship. More than that, even, since he didn’t fall asleep at any point. The only change he noticed in all that time was the flutter of an eyelash that turned out to be nothing, as Sanji never woke or made any other sign that he was at all aware of his surroundings. Zoro had been so eager for a change that he started up out of his seat, but in his disappointment he sank back down onto the bed itself, instinctively wanting to be closer just in case. When it resolved into nothing, he sat frowning for a moment before reaching his hand out and curling it around Sanji’s neck, going far beyond feeling for his pulse. Some of the warmth was returning to Sanji’s body, though his skin was still a tinge cooler than Zoro’s palm as he rested it there, feeling the lifeblood coursing beneath his touch. He caressed gently, rubbing his fingertips along Sanji’s hairline and smoothing his thumb along the angle of his jaw. The blond hair was limp and rough like straw, but Zoro did his best to keep it arranged the way the cook would like it, never once so much as teasing at lifting it off his left eye. His index finger brushed against Sanji’s earlobe as he slowly, gently petted and then withdrew in embarrassment. His best friend, his rival and his lover, was passed out from severe injury and blood loss and all he could think about was touching him. Breathing a soft sigh, Zoro forced himself to slide over from the bed back to the box and behave, seeing as there was nothing he could do to hurry things along. Sanji would wake in his own time, and whether he idly chatted or stayed silent, nothing Zoro did would make it happen any faster. He knew it, but that didn’t stop him from being frustrated by it. As night drew on and deepened around the ship, and Chopper took up his position at the railing to spend most of the night pacing, Robin withdrew the secret eye and ear she had snuck into the storeroom to observe the swordsman’s behavior and went to bed with a little smirk on her lips.

There wasn’t much of a way to tell the passage of time and date in the room below decks, it had no windows to the outside and only a small stopwatch in Chopper’s medical bag served to tell the actual time. Zoro had not glanced at it in hours because it only made him all the more frustrated, and around two in the morning, also tired. He gave up and ignored it for a while, neither knowing nor caring when it got to be close to dawn. His eyes were drooping a little, but he held off sleep by sheer willpower. A few more circuits of the room, pacing and stretching, also helped. He was back in his seat when it mattered, and his determined observation paid off when he noticed that eyelash-flicker again. Zoro perked up a little, focusing squarely on his charge, and was rewarded this time with the twitch of a lip and a slightly deeper breath. All exhaustion fell away from the first mate as he leaned in hopefully, daring after a minute or two to urgently hiss, “Cook. Oi. You with me? Cook!”

Sanji’s lips unmistakably parted, and he rasped a quick breath before his eye slowly opened. There was still only one small lamp left burning in the cabin, but he flinched at it as though it were bright sun. He spoke no word, and only the lightest breath of a groan slipped out as his head lolled to one side.

Zoro’s brow creased in concern. He didn’t know what kind of long-term effects came out of brushes with death, since he never noticed any besides slow-healing wounds. “Cook,” he said again, his voice thick and deep but calm. “Come on, stay with me. You alive in there?”

The hand nearest him on the bed twitched. Sanji’s head rolled back towards the voice calling him, but it took another long moment for his eyes to open again. The uncovered one was glassy, as if with pain. He tried to swallow and then faintly rasped, “…noisy.”

Zoro gazed hard at him, almost willing him to grow stronger so he could say more than one word at a time. “You want me to get Chopper?”

That uncovered eye drifted closed again, and Sanji gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “S’okay…” he whispered. “But, water…”

Without needing any further word Zoro got up and went to where Chopper had left the pitcher and glasses and poured some water. He was aware it would be difficult to drink if Sanji couldn’t hardly move, so he perched himself on the side of the bed and, without asking permission, lifted his comrade up in one arm and propped him up. Sanji winced more than once at all the movement, but in the end he was able to drink enough without spilling. Zoro remained there a while longer, holding the glass in case he might want more, not caring that it left him cradling Sanji in his arms and half in his lap. “Better?” he wondered. 

Sanji took a few quiet breaths, though it was clear that he was becoming more alert with each passing minute. He shifted his head toward Zoro, but didn’t look up at him. “Not the face I expected.”

Not knowing what he meant, Zoro tried not to frown. Was he still hoping for one of the girls? Or maybe he meant Chopper. “Tough,” he responded. “It’s all you’re getting.”

The tiniest chuckle sniffed out of Sanji, but even that was harsh enough on his body that he flinched. “Didn’t say I didn’t like it,” he murmured.

Zoro bent his head, though all the further he could reach was to rest his chin on the top of Sanji’s head – gently, at that. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Most of the others are off the ship. When you want me to get Chopper, I will. I’m supposed to go get him if you wake up anyway.”

“In a minute.” Whether Sanji had noticed their position, or whether it mattered to him, it was tough to say. He wasn’t making any moves to push his companion away, though. He finally had enough strength to raise a hand, but only tapped the side of the glass to signal that he needed more to drink. Zoro helped, and then set the glass aside on the box. They sat together in silence for another minute or two, and then the swordsman finally moved to extract himself from the bed without jostling the patient too badly. He settled Sanji back into the pillow and brushed a hand delicately across his brow before wordlessly moving to the door to go and fetch Chopper.

The morning sun breaking over the sea dazzled Zoro’s eyes as he came out on deck. Chopper’s cry of delight that Sanji was awake gave him a second sharp shock that he wasn’t prepared for. The others had not returned at all overnight, but that probably meant they had found somewhere to spend the night and would be back soon. In no time at all the doctor, wide awake despite his long night keeping watch, was looking over Sanji to investigate his progress and asking him more questions than he could answer. He wasn’t moving around too much or talking excessively, but some sign of Sanji’s personality was awakening through the haze. It became clear when he finally asked a question of his own, wondering how the crew was getting fed without him. “We’re scraping by,” Zoro said curtly. He stood aside with his arms folded over his chest, mostly just watching and doing a very good job of hiding every last shred of emotion. “Not everything has to be cooked, you know.”

“Usopp and Robin have been taking turns,” Chopper added as he finished changing the bandages. “At least until Usopp went with the others to go find the treasure.”

Sanji’s eye lifted to Zoro’s face as if to ask for that story, but he said nothing out loud. He sighed softly and waited patiently until he was covered up again, made comfy and well-tended. “You look tired, Chopper.”

The doctor passed it off with a wave of his hoof. “I kept watch last night. It’s okay, I’ll be fine. It’s more important to make sure you’re getting better. Once those painkillers kick in, you should be able to rest more easily.”

“You, too,” Zoro muttered. “Go get some sleep, Chopper. The others are fine, they’ll be back when they’re done fiddling around in those caves or wherever they went.”

“And what about you?” Chopper peered up at him. “You’re not doing yourself any favors by staying awake for days when you’re injured, too.”

“I’m not hurt,” Zoro said defensively, almost pouting. “I can handle it.”

“Idiot,” Sanji breathed. Zoro shot him a look, but that was all he said.

“Don’t make me knock you out and drag you onto the mattress,” Chopper warned.

Zoro sniffed and dismissed him with a wave, but there was suddenly a much bigger Chopper right behind him glaring down at him. He recoiled and flailed, but before any blows could be exchanged, Sanji started laughing wheezily and then coughing. Instantly, Chopper returned to Brain Point and both he and Zoro leaped to the bedside. “Dammit,” Sanji croaked in between coughing fits. “Don’t make me laugh, it hurts…”

“It wasn’t that funny,” Zoro sulked.

“Sanji, are you okay?” Chopper worried. “Where does it hurt?”

Sanji brushed a hand across his bandaged chest. “It’s just…tight. Hard to breathe, here.”

The doctor hurried to get his stethoscope again and implored Sanji to lie back down and be still. He listened and frowned to himself. “It’s rough, but it doesn’t sound dangerous for the moment.” He looked up at Zoro, conflicted, seeming to hearken back to the advice he had given at the beginning of the night.

Zoro eased to a seat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll stay with him until the others get back.”

It might have been his imagination, but he thought he noticed Sanji flush slightly before he looked away. Chopper heaved a put-upon sigh and drooped. “I guess it can’t be helped. I’m exhausted and until Robin gets up, there’s no one else.”

“Don’t disturb a woman’s beauty sleep,” Sanji murmured, his voice growing fainter.

Zoro patted a hand on top of Chopper’s hat. “It’s fine, I’ve got things here.”

“All right. Just keep him comfortable, and wake me up if you need me. I don’t care if it’s five minutes from now, I’ll be here in a snap to take care of it.” Chopper, likewise, patted Sanji’s arm before hopping off the bed. “Just get some sleep. You’ll feel better for it. Don’t worry about breakfast, or anything else, just concentrate on getting better.”

Sanji’s gaze followed him to the door, and then shifted to the brawny swordsman sitting far too close to him. “You’re being a sap,” he breathed, not forcing out his words this time. “They’re going to find out.”

“I don’t care.” Zoro’s face was as hard and stoic as usual. “And _you’re_ the idiot, idiot. What did you go and fight that guy for? You should have waited for someone…”

“Shut up.” The rasp was quiet but effective. Zoro pursed his lips shut instantly. Sanji took a moment to muster up a little more energy, and moistened his lips before continuing. “There wasn’t time.”

“You should’ve let a swordsman handle a swordsman,” Zoro insisted.

“Swordsman.” The word came out as nothing more than a huff. “That thing was more like an axe.” Sanji closed his eyes once more. “Would you have knocked me out with another kidney-punch?”

Zoro’s jaw clenched. He couldn’t help his worry, but it was coming out all wrong, like it usually did whenever the two of them actually talked. “Don’t bring that up,” he said heavily. “We’re not talking about before, we’re talking about now.”

Sanji remained lying there with his eyes closed, his face tipped somewhat away, but his hand slid over and rested against Zoro’s knee. “He was going after the others,” he said flatly, his lips barely moving. “He sent his men to the ship, and he was going after the girls, and Luffy. Do you honestly think…” Too many words. He needed to pause for breath. “…that I would just stand aside and let him, in the hopes he would somehow run into you on the way?”

Zoro averted his gaze, noting the hand on his leg. A long pause answered the rhetorical question; he knew full well Sanji was right, and what he did was the only thing that could be done. Anything less would be foolishness and cowardice, two traits the cook did not have in him. After long enough, Zoro said the only thing he felt he could in that moment. “I thought you were dead.”

Sanji finally glanced his way, his visible eye half-closed and hazy but alert enough. “That close, huh?”

“That close.” Zoro’s hand came to rest on top of his, warm and dry and firm. That made Sanji’s curly eyebrow twitch upward in surprise. After another long pause, Zoro implored, “Don’t fight it. Get some sleep.”

“I’ve slept enough,” Sanji sighed. “How long…?”

“Day and a half. Not quite two days.”

The hand on his knee squeezed very subtly. “Been here the whole time, hm?”

Zoro tossed his head in the direction of the mattress set out on the floor nearby. “Chopper took his turn while I slept. Not the whole time.”

“Liar.” Sanji’s lips curved in the tiniest smile. “Sleeping over there counts as being here.”

Zoro looked away again, clearly pouting. He hated having attention called to any of his actions, particularly those tinged with emotion. Things between them were supposed to be unsaid, understood. “What does it matter?” he complained.

The smile grew stronger; Sanji knew, and decided not to tease him. “Then, tell me about the others.”

“They went out yesterday. Something about a map Brook found.”

“Oh?” The eyebrow went up again. “So he did find it.”

“You two were looking for it.”

Sanji shook his head slightly. “We heard about it. But then the so-called captain came on the attack.”

“Yeah, well.” Zoro shrugged a bit, though it did not dislodge his hand from where it rested. “They wanted to be back before nightfall, but weren’t. That’s why Chopper was on watch. They probably just found somewhere to hole up for the night.”

Sanji groaned a little, though what thoughts fluttered through his mind he didn’t share. He laid quietly for a few moments, his eyes starting to close against his will. The medicine Chopper had given him worked very well to suppress the pain, but it also made him drowsy. “And you’re not worried.”

“Luffy’s with them.” Zoro would repeat that mantra as often as it took. He picked up the hand now lying limp on his knee and moved it to Sanji’s chest, the better to disengage himself. “I told you, stop fighting. Just go to sleep already. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Damn sap,” Sanji murmured, trailing off. He dropped off to sleep right there, heedless of his companion moving off the bed and back onto the crate. At least this time, Sanji was really resting and not passed out, and Zoro himself seemed to droop where he sat. He couldn’t let himself nap, though, he promised to watch out for any more breathing problems. His lips twisted wryly – it wouldn’t be a hard job. Unless Sanji picked this time to start snoring.

  


The thunder of feet around mid-morning announced the return of the other half of the crew, and the result of their expedition. Luffy wouldn’t have been nearly so excited had they not found the treasure. Robin was up and about by then, and greeted them with tea and the good news that their beloved cook had regained consciousness. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quick enough to stop the captain from immediately tossing aside the bag he was holding and racing downstairs to see for himself. At least Zoro heard him coming and managed to be in the doorway the instant the door was yanked open. Luffy bounced off his chest and crashed into the opposite wall. “Owwww! Zoro!” he complained. “What did you do that for?”

“Because you’re a noisy idiot,” the swordsman replied. “Keep it down, would you?”

Luffy picked himself up and straightened his hat. “But Robin said Sanji was awake!”

“He’s conscious. But he’s asleep right now. Don’t wake him up.”

The captain met his first mate’s eye for a moment, his lip screwing up into a pout of reluctant acquiescence. “I want to see him,” he said, not so loudly.

“Only if you keep quiet.” Zoro took a step to the side to permit passage.

Luffy meandered into the temporary infirmary and headed straight for the bed to have a look for himself. Sanji was still asleep, hands folded loosely on his chest. The difference between his position now and before was subtle, but those who knew him could tell. Luffy stood there and gazed at him for a while, his expression unreadable, but then he began to slowly lean forward in curiosity. Zoro grabbed him by the back of the vest before he could go too far. “I’m just making sure!” he protested, stretching his neck further. It snapped back an instant later, and he straightened up to look at Zoro. “He whistles when he breathes, now.”

“What?” Zoro frowned at him and bent down to verify. Sanji’s breathing was not labored, but he did still have a little bit of a rasp developing that wasn’t there an hour ago. It was enough to make the swordsman scowl to himself – he should have noticed. “I’d better get Chopper,” he murmured.

“Is that bad?” Luffy wondered.

“I don’t know.” Zoro pushed himself back up and gave Luffy a hard look. “But he said he wanted to know if anything changed, even if we had to wake him up.” He thought of something else, then, his eyes narrowing. “What happened with you guys?”

Luffy brightened. “Oh! We found the treasure! It took forever, though. That bastard had it all rigged up with tricks and secret tunnels, and it all led right back to the basement underneath their secret lair. We just got back.”

“Luffy.” Robin’s voice was gentle as she interrupted them from the doorway. “Perhaps you should chat out here in the hall, or up on deck. Let Sanji sleep.” Her blue eyes twinkled a bit with a hidden smile. “And you, too, Zoro. The others are back, now, so you can get some rest.”

Zoro stared her down, his dark eyes hard. She really had no idea how firm was his intention to remain near his crewmate’s side as long as possible. “Then go wake Chopper up and tell him I need him here.”

Robin blinked at him. “Is something wrong?”

“Maybe. Just get him.”

“I’ll go get him, Zoro!” Luffy zipped out of the room and was off to the men’s cabin in a flash.

Robin took a step into the room. “I’m aware of the doctor’s orders. Someone else can take a turn, if it’s that urgent that he be watched.”

“I’m not asking anyone else to,” Zoro said determinedly. “This is something I want to do.”

“Do you really think he would want you to sacrifice your own health for him?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It doesn’t matter what he wants. It’s my choice.”

Robin sighed at him. There was no sense arguing with him when he got into a stubborn mood. Just then, Luffy returned with Chopper, telling him about the cool treasure they picked up as he escorted the little doctor to the room below decks. Chopper promptly told them all off for crowding around and making noise when there was someone inside who needed peace and quiet. The only one he couldn’t get rid of was Zoro, who he ignored while he made his examination and came to a conclusion. “I need to know one more thing. When he was awake, did he have trouble breathing or talking?”

Zoro had consented, for now, to sitting cross-legged on the mattress on the floor. “Not really. He spoke quietly, but it wasn’t wheezy like that even after the coughing fit.”

“Hmm.” Chopper rubbed his chin. “We’ll bide our time until he wakes up. It’s probably nothing serious, but all the same.” He then pointed a hoof sternly at the swordsman. “ _You_ are going to go to sleep, mister! I’ve had enough of you disobeying my orders. I’ll get somebody smart like Nami or Usopp to sit with him while you get some rest.”

“What about you?”

Chopper wilted in place. “I only got a couple hours’ sleep when Luffy came barging in,” he whined. “I’m _tired_.”

Zoro bowed his head, and then murmured, “Fine. Get someone to watch and I’ll sleep here.”

It was the best compromise Chopper could hope for. He sprang off the bed and trotted to the door. “You’d better! I’m counting that as a promise.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Zoro remained sitting there while he waited, hands loosely folded in his lap in an almost meditative position. His senses were trained on Sanji, even though he was a couple of feet away now. The cook went right on sleeping, showing no sign of having been disturbed at all by the noise. The utility room fell quiet in the interim, magnifying the tiny rasp that had crept into Sanji’s breathing into an alarming sound. Zoro mulled it over, worrying despite Chopper’s reassurances. A moment later Sanji took a sudden, quick breath, and then began to cough. It didn’t pass this time, but rather escalated into a racking cough that woke him up and had Zoro leaping to his feet. He rushed to the bedside in time for Sanji to squint up at him and reach for his assistance, practically crawling his way up Zoro’s arm in an attempt at sitting. The swordsman noticed the dark shade of his grimace and the tiny tear of pain at the corner of his eye, but there was nothing he could do besides sit there and provide support.

Chopper raced into the room alone a moment later, and was quickly up on the bed with medicines and instruments barking orders at Zoro. “Pick him up, pick him up! No, make sure he’s sitting up, don’t let him lay down again. Sanji, you have to sit up for a minute. Just try to take deep breaths if you can.”

Without hesitation, Zoro grabbed a solid hold of Sanji and yanked him up into a full sitting position, and then held him there in a sort of embrace. The cook leaned against him as he coughed and tried to breathe, pressing his face into Zoro’s shoulder. Chopper stood at his back, listening to the coughs and the air in between for some clue to what was causing it. This, then, was the scene Nami beheld as she came into the room, oblivious to any problems. She paused in the doorway, perplexed by the way Zoro was holding Sanji, but the emergency situation became clear quickly enough. “Oh, no…Sanji?”

Being as he was still trying to control his cough, Sanji did not hear her softer voice. Zoro did, though, and turned dark eyes and an even darker expression her way. He didn’t move a muscle, but somehow the tension of his posture turned possessive in that instant. Chopper examined his patient carefully and then sighed. “I was afraid of that. Fluid is building in his lungs. Check for me, Zoro – is he coughing up blood at all?”

Gently, Zoro pried Sanji off his shoulder just enough to check, looking and then brushing a thumb over his lips. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“Okay, good. Sanji…” Chopper patted him on the back. The coughs were starting to subside, at least, but the cook groaned at what it did to the rest of his body. “It’s okay. I thought this might happen. You’re going to have to sleep sitting up for a while, until you heal properly.”

Sanji pushed Zoro back just enough to sit up and try to look. His eye caught Nami waiting in the door, but instead of brightening up at her presence, he grimaced and averted his gaze. “What’s going on, Chopper?” he rasped. “What’s wrong with me?”

“The good news is, it’s not an infection,” Chopper answered, picking through his selection of medicines to find the right one. “Some of your injuries to your ribs have bruised your lungs, and now fluid is collecting in them from lying flat on your back and not moving for two days. You have to stay sitting up for a while, or you could literally drown on dry land.” He held up the bottle he had selected. “I’ll give you some of this to help break it up, so you can breathe easier.”

Sanji sagged against Zoro, exhausted from the hacking. “How long is this going to take?”

“Don’t worry about that. The faster you heal, the less of a problem it’ll be.”

Zoro spoke quietly in his ear. “Just do it, cook. You’re better off listening.”

“Look who’s talking.” Chopper squinted at him. “Yeah, Sanji, don’t be like Zoro and go around taking off your bandages and trying to do your normal duties when you should be in bed. Or else it’ll take forever to heal.”

Zoro frowned, but accepted the scolding, since he knew it was true. He made his choices and lived with them, for better or worse. Sanji managed a weak nod. “All right, if you say so. Never let it be said I take my ideas from this idiot.”

Nami edged into the room, having only heard enough to gather that she could be of use. “Do you need me to get anything, Chopper?”

“Yes! Get all the pillows and blankets you can find in storage, we have to make a big stack to prop him up.”

She did so, eager to help even though the two men were avoiding looking at her. It took a minute of pillow-fluffing and arranging before she could catch Sanji’s eye again, at which point he gave her a feeble shadow of his usual smile. “Ah, Nami, I didn’t want you to have to see me like this,” he said apologetically.

“Don’t be silly. I’ve seen you in a lot worse shape than this,” she reassured.

Zoro still supported him, keeping him from lying down and succumbing to another fit. Some part of him was steeling himself against the moment Sanji started fawning over her, particularly with her being so close, because it always happened. Regardless of their private dealings, the cook couldn’t help himself. Yet, for now, he seemed embarrassed, though Zoro didn’t know if it was from his state of health or his lack of shirt. Bandages covered most of his torso, but he wasn’t wearing anything above the waist otherwise. When the other two had finished stacking the pillows and making a decent nest for him, Zoro eased him back against it and Chopper neatly tucked him in. Sanji glanced at all of them in turn and then closed his eyes. “You don’t have to go to all this trouble, I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be stubborn like Zoro,” Nami scolded. “Just let us take care of you.” She glanced down at Zoro, who hadn’t moved off the bed and was still eying her warily. “And you, get out of the way.”

“Zoro. Sleep – now,” Chopper added, pointing to the mattress on the floor.

There was something stiff and defiant about Zoro’s motion and expression as he got to his feet and shouldered past to go and lie back down, and Sanji snuck a peek at him in time to notice. Yet, Zoro threw himself down without a word of protest and rolled over as if to sleep. Chopper gave Nami a few instructions about what to watch for, what to do and not to do, and then departed to go catch a few more winks himself. As Nami sat down in the vacant seat atop the box at the bedside, she had no idea what kind of awkward situation she had fallen into. Sanji clutched the blanket up against his chest and made to go back to sleep, all the better to try to pretend he wasn’t being attended by his favorite girl. Fortunately, his battered body was just exhausted enough to make that act a reality in rather short order. Zoro was still and silent, curled up on his side, and so Nami was left alone to keep watch. She sighed and checked the log pose, even though nothing about it had changed at all. Her watch hadn’t gone on very long at all when the door creaked open and Luffy’s head rubber-banded in. “Nami,” he hissed, trying to be quiet and failing. “Franky wants to know if it’s safe to set sail!”

“Oh for…” Nami got up with a huff and stormed over to him, grabbing him by a stretchy cheek and yoinking him fully into the room. “I’m supposed to be taking care of Sanji!”

“But we’re done here,” Luffy pointed out, his words slurred from having his cheek pulled away from his face. “We should raise sail and keep going! And we need a navigator to do that!”

Nami sighed again and released him, letting his face snap back. “Fine, but then you have to watch Sanji instead.”

Luffy craned his neck to see over her shoulder. “He looks like he’s just sleeping. That’s a funny way to sleep…”

“He _is_ sleeping, but he was in bad shape a little while ago, that’s why you have to watch out for him.” She repeated Chopper’s instructions, though some part of her knew that Luffy would forget most of them, and just left him with an admonishment to go and get Chopper if anything happened that seemed wrong. It would do for now until someone with a more trustworthy attention span could take his place. “I’ll help Franky get us underway, then.”

Luffy saluted her with a tap of his fingers to the brim of his hat. “All right! Captain’s orders, you know.”

“I know.”

When she had quietly closed the infirmary door, Luffy turned and went back to the bedside, dropping onto the box with unusual grace. He could maintain control of himself when he wanted to, and now was a good time for it. Both Sanji and Zoro were actually asleep, now, but that didn’t deter the captain from taking on this important duty. He drew his legs up and folded them on the box and sat silent, his head up, his eyes alert, and an air of gentle authority around him as he watched to make sure Sanji stayed peacefully asleep.

What woke Zoro eventually was the sound of voices – patient, gentle voices not far from him. He slid from deep slumber into wakefulness when he realized he could hear Luffy, though he wasn’t yelling like usual. The young captain’s reedy voice wove in and out with a deeper, softer one. Zoro rolled over to make sure he was really hearing Luffy and Sanji quietly chatting, and so it was. The movement got their attention, and Luffy broke off the conversation with a light-hearted, “Oh! Zoro, you’re awake.”

Sanji was still safely nestled in the tower of pillows keeping him upright. He looked even more haggard than he had before regaining consciousness, but in spite of the dark circles under his eyes he was smiling faintly. “And here I thought he would sleep right through any noise we made.”

Zoro sat up and rubbed his eyes. “The hell are you doing up?”

Sanji made a bit of a face. “It’s damn hard to sleep sitting up, you know.” He nodded his head in the captain’s direction. “Luffy was just filling me in on everything I missed the last few days.”

“It’s too bad you guys couldn’t come with us, it was fun,” Luffy enthused, still in that same low-key tone. “Maybe next time we run into a chance like this, you’ll both be healed up.”

“I was fine before the fighting started,” Sanji insisted. “That kind of fun was what put me here.”

Zoro sat for a minute with his arms resting on his knees, letting himself wake up. “Time’s it?”

“It better be dinnertime,” Luffy complained. “I’m _starving_.”

“I’d fix that if I could,” Sanji said with a weak smile. “Chopper would kill me if I tried to stand up just now, though.” 

Luffy swooned in his seat. “I wish you were better already, I miss your food! Robin’s okay to keep us from starving to death but you’re so much better!”

“Oi, Luffy,” Zoro said calmly. “Go find out if there’s dinner yet.”

“Okay! Yeah, now that you’re awake, I can move.” Luffy hopped up and puffed out his chest proudly. “I’ll tell the others you’re all right. Everybody’s been worried but now that we’re sailing again, everything should get back to normal.” He nodded as if to pronounce his prediction correct and sauntered on out.

There was a moment of dead silence after he left, in which Zoro sat scrubbing a hand through his hair and Sanji sagged into the pillows. At last, the cook spoke in a low tone. “He’s not coming back. You can sit up here, like I know you want to.”

Zoro snorted as if to deny it, but a moment later he pushed himself to his feet and came to the bedside. Rather than the crate, he sat on the bed itself. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks a _lot_ ,” Sanji snorted, pressing a hand to his chest as if to stop a cough before it could happen. 

Zoro noticed the movement and studied him for a moment. He only meant that Sanji looked worn, haggard, still a bit disheveled, his eyes hollow and his skin more pale than usual. “Didn’t sleep at all?”

“Little bit. Not enough.” Sanji’s head rolled to the side across the pillows. “Maybe I should ask Chopper for something to knock me out. This sleeping sitting up isn’t going to work.”

“Works for me just fine,” Zoro shrugged.

“I think we’ve already established that I’m not you.” Sanji cracked one eye open and studied Zoro right back. “You don’t have to stay anymore. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, as fine as I was a week ago,” Zoro muttered. He met his comrade’s gaze, his lips twisting into a suspicious pout. “You don’t want me to stay?”

That eye shifted away. “I’m just saying you don’t need to.”

“I haven’t been sitting here because I need to.”

Sanji winced a little. “Zoro…”

“You almost died, asshole,” the swordsman said bluntly. “You really think I’m just going to act like I don’t care?”

“Almost.” Sanji shook his head a little. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing. It takes a lot more than that to kill me.”

Gritting his teeth, Zoro sat up sharply and leaned in. “Chopper made me press my hands on your chest to keep your heart beating!” he snarled, keeping his volume low. “I broke your damn ribs doing it, too!”

Sanji’s uncovered eye widened until it gleamed white in the dim half-light of the sub-level room. Disturbing as that news was, he was more shocked by the intensity of his companion’s emotions. He had come to know Zoro’s passion as of late, not that which he tapped into while fighting but a different kind. The man’s bonds went deep, and the one he had formed with the cook ran deeper than most – he was seeing it now for what it was. His lips moved like he wanted to speak, but no word came out.

Zoro looked away, embarrassed. He hadn’t meant to tell Sanji of his own near-demise. “I thought we’d lost you,” he admitted, his voice sinking way down into that deep, heavy timbre of his utmost seriousness.

Sanji let out a soft noise, somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “Idiot,” he breathed. “Don’t say stupid things.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Zoro frowned.

The cook’s hand moved over his, since his position allowed for very little movement at the moment. “You’re actually worried about me,” he noted with a hint of humor. “I’m touched, seaweed-head.”

“Yeah, well,” Zoro pouted, “you’re not the only one allowed to flip his shit when his crewmate almost dies.”

“And if I had?” The humor was gone in that instant. Sanji’s voice was soft but with a stern edge to it. “You pick yourself up and move on. Say goodbye and keep going. This wallowing isn’t like you, Zoro.”

The swordsman turned hard, dark eyes on him, but a heartbeat later realized that his comrade’s hand was still covering his. He looked down at it instead, focusing on it as he mumbled without hardly parting his lips. “You didn’t die. And I’m not wallowing. I just…” He clawed his free hand through his short hair in frustration. “I’m not used to feeling like this, okay? I know perfectly well that if any of us die on this journey, the rest of us have to just keep going. That doesn’t change…”

The hand on his squeezed just when he ran out of words. “Don’t. I get it.”

“No you don’t…”

“Shut up.” The slightly more forceful bark made Sanji wince at what it did to his chest and throat. His head drooped so that his hair covered both eyes. “You don’t think I felt the same way when I found you?”

Zoro had expected this. The two incidents were so close together, of course everything was going to hearken back to that moment. He sat silent for a long time, wishing he could both move closer and run away at the same time. “So. What does it mean?” he finally wondered.

“Don’t ask me, it’s your damn feeling.” Sanji pulled back his hand in order to rub at his chest again. “Shit…I could really use a cigarette right now…”

Zoro peered at him for changing the subject, but let it be for now. “Don’t even think about it. If there’s fluid in your lungs or whatever…”

“I know, I know. I’m just saying, I’m going to be pretty pissed until I can finally have one,” Sanji groused.

“…you hungry yet?”

“A little.” Sanji let his head rest back against the pillows, almost mulling it over. “I’m more interested in a bath, though.” He was well aware of how long he had been out, and that he reeked of old sweat and blood.

The fact that Luffy had indeed not returned got Zoro thinking. He glanced over his shoulder at the door as if to verify that they weren’t about to be interrupted. “You’re gonna need a hand with that, I think.”

“Let me guess. You’re volunteering.”

“If we get it done now, while everyone else is eating, there won’t be anyone to interfere.”

Sanji really couldn’t argue with that logic. He nodded his head to consent to the plan and tried to sit up, testing the limits of his lack of strength. Zoro moved to help him, pulling back the blankets and patiently letting Sanji stretch out his legs and scoot to the edge of the bed in his own time. The journey upstairs to the men’s bathroom took twice as long as it should have, but Zoro never complained or hurried him along. He gave Sanji a few minutes of privacy to take care of matters while he slipped into the men’s cabin and fetched fresh clothing, having no idea what his friend would prefer but deciding on something comfortable for lying in bed, soft pants and a sweatshirt. From there they had an even longer and more painful journey to get to the bath – across the deck, up the stairs, then more stairs to the library and up one level at the far stern of the ship. It seemed to take forever, particularly since they had to pass cautiously near the galley where everyone was eating. The last stage included a ladder, so Zoro set down the armload of fresh clothing and helped his comrade up it first, then left him leaning against the wall while he went back down for the other things. He returned to find Sanji already seated on a bath stool, though he hadn’t disrobed yet. He looked like he was in pain, or at least silently, manfully bearing it. Zoro set the clean clothes aside on the divider between faucets and bath and stripped off his own shirt. The movement caught Sanji’s eye, making him glance up. “You’d better not be getting any funny ideas, marimo,” he warned quietly.

“I’m not,” Zoro sniffed. “Just don’t want to get wet is all.” He still had a couple of bandages tied around his arms and the middle of his chest, but most of him was free of any visible injury. Sanji, on the other hand, was still wrapped up fairly tightly. Zoro helped him out of his pants and then gingerly unwrapped the bandages, revealing the full extent of his injuries for him to see.

There were great red lines across the cook’s chest and upper arms, showing where Chopper had stitched up the lacerations from the giant axe. Unlike Zoro’s enormous scar, those would likely disappear in time since their doctor was a miracle-worker. Bruises of all sizes and colors covered Sanji’s pale skin along his flanks and back, and there were more cuts across his thighs. They were mere reminders of the battle, his worst injuries were internal – broken ribs and muscle damage at the very least. Sanji looked himself over, though his demeanor did not change. He accepted his wounds with resignation, saying nothing. For a rough-handed swordsman, Zoro was exceptionally gentle, rolling up the bandages and setting them aside before going about the business of filling up buckets of water and bringing over the soap and washcloths, giving Sanji those extra moments to breathe and relax. He was there primarily to keep Sanji from falling over, fainting, having another coughing fit, or otherwise doing more harm to himself, but after setting everything within his companion’s reach, he took up an extra cloth. Sanji moved very slowly, partly from weakness and partly because the wounds to his chest needed to be treated gingerly. Zoro knelt behind him and soaped his back with uncommon tenderness. A few minutes in, Sanji grunted quietly and sagged in his seat, leaning back against the body behind him – he was just too tired to wash up. He didn’t even flinch when the bruises on his back came to rest against Zoro’s bare chest, and the swordsman simply moved to keep washing, getting his arms and neck and shoulders and then moving lower. He carefully ran the washcloth over the stitched cuts on his thighs to clean off any dried blood, and then paused. Sanji turned his head and found his nose meeting the side of Zoro’s neck as the other man stretched around him for more fresh water to rinse out the cloth. “What’s the matter?” he murmured. “It’s not like you’ve never touched me there before.”

Zoro neither blushed nor looked him in the eye as he wringed out the cloth and moved on to the cook’s long legs. “You’re conscious and your hands work fine,” he muttered. “Or are you that much of an invalid?”

Sanji grumbled a little but picked up the washcloth he had let fall from his hand and made a point to wash his own groin. Whether it was some weird sense of politeness or modesty or what, Zoro wasn’t going to touch him that way today. He scrubbed mindlessly, mostly watching Zoro work and marveling at his thoroughness. He took care not to get soap in any of the wounds, didn’t rub too hard, and when he reached Sanji’s powerful and valuable feet, even scrubbed between his toes for him. The last thing left was Sanji’s hair, which he definitely wanted washed now that everyone was going to be coming down to visit him in his sickbed. He had barely picked up the bottle of shampoo when Zoro took it from him and got to his feet in order to do it himself. Sanji bit back a snide comment about hairdressers, mostly because he now had to concentrate to support himself sitting on the stool. Zoro worked quickly, but then lingered an extra minute or two, working his fingers through sudsy blond hair and practically massaging Sanji’s scalp. He knew he was doing it right when the cook wilted against his legs with a little sigh. But then the job was finished and it was time to rinse off. Zoro lifted the buckets and left it up to Sanji to make sure all the soap got off his limbs. At last, Sanji found himself being wrapped up in a clean towel, very cautiously dried so as not to irritate his stitches or bruises, and then given a thorough hair-ruffling with another towel. As he sat there, still hunched over in his fatigue, with strong hands and a soft towel secure around him, Sanji felt a twinge in his chest that had nothing to do with his lungs or ribs. Zoro had _washed his hair_ for him. That, more than anything, more even than him spending every minute at the bedside, told him what words could not. As Zoro leaned close to help him to his feet, Sanji reached to grab a hold of him. Without a shirt on, he could only clutch at the swordsman’s far shoulder. He barely lifted his head and didn’t let their eyes meet at all before he dove in for a kiss, startling Zoro for the briefest moment before he could recover and kiss back. It was a soft, lingering thing, not at all like the ravaging, passionate kisses they often shared in their private moments. It broke off quickly because Sanji was still short of breath, but the two of them did not move apart – or at all, for a minute or two. In a pure stroke of bad timing, a small, wet cough forced Sanji to look away for a moment, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth to stop it. “Sorry,” he rasped when he had control again.

Zoro gallantly pretended nothing happened. “Is that good, or you want a soak in the bath?”

Sanji shook his head. “I don’t need to. It’s probably too risky, anyway.” He lifted an arm slightly as if to indicate that his injuries shouldn’t be treated to a soak in hot water.

“Should get you bandaged back up,” Zoro murmured.

“Might as well get fresh ones,” Sanji advised in the same low tone.

“You gonna be okay while I go get some?”

Sanji placed his hand flat against Zoro’s bare chest and gave him a feeble push. “You worry too much. Just go do it, you damn mother hen.”

Zoro responded by yanking the towel back up over his comrade’s head and leaving him like that. Sanji was still sitting on the stool anyway, it was a safe place to leave him for a spell. Zoro got up and bemusedly took stock of just how wet his pants ended up despite his best efforts, but promptly ignored it and went to get fresh bandages from the infirmary – the real one, since it was closer. He half expected Chopper to be in there and steeled himself for a torrent of scolding for taking Sanji out of bed, but no one was there. He managed to escape back to the bath without notice and came back to where the cook sat slowly drying off his limbs. By now, most of the crew was fairly adept at bandaging one another, they didn’t need to wait for Chopper to do it himself. Luckily, because he might have found the scene in the bath a little more than strange, with Zoro half-dressed and half-wrapped, Sanji naked and in need of fresh bandages, and the two of them moving rather close to one another considering the circumstances. The swordsman made quick work of this duty, and then paused to brush his lips against the curly brow before getting up to get the fresh clothing waiting for them. He let Sanji dress himself, though, not wanting to imply that he was completely incapable of anything. That gave him a chance to inspect his own bandages and pull his shirt back on to cover them, satisfied with his progress. “Feel better now?” he idly wondered as he turned around.

Sanji harrumphed under his breath with his head still bowed. “Never underestimate the power of a good bath,” he muttered, and then glanced up with a shadow of a smile. “I feel human, at least.”

“Come on.” Zoro went to his side and shouldered his arm in order to help him up. There were only a few hitches of breath and painful hisses, but Sanji bore it well and let himself be supported. After all, he was barefoot and the bath tiles were slippery. He seemed to be clinging a little tighter to his crewmate than usual, willingly resting his head against the offered shoulder as he plodded down stairs one foot at a time.

The flailing and scolding was waiting for them before they even reached the main deck. Chopper must have just gone in to find the bed empty, for he almost crashed into them as he barreled up the stairs on a hunt for them. “What are you doing? Zoro, you dummy! You’re going to open up his wounds! Don’t you be doing things like that, just because you always take off your bandages…!”

“Chopper,” Sanji said, and though his voice was quiet and hoarse, it effectively interrupted the doctor’s tirade. “It’s not his fault. I made him take me, I wanted a bath.”

Chopper set his hooves on his hips and glared up at them. “Both of you are impossible!” he huffed. “Zoro, get him back to bed before he catches an infection or something.”

“That’s where I was going,” Zoro said dryly. “Except you’re in the way.”

The little reindeer instantly zipped to one side, grabbing the handle of the door that led to the topside infirmary and directing with a stern look and a pointed hoof that he wanted them to go no further. At least there was a bed waiting, with fresh sheets and the doctor’s desk right beside it. Chopper ran off while Zoro settled Sanji onto his new sickbed and came back with his bag and most of what he had left below decks. They had to rebuild the nest of pillows all over again, but at least that wasn’t difficult. At the very last, Chopper ducked through the opposite door into the kitchen and returned with a tray. “You didn’t come up for dinner, so I brought food for both of you. Sanji, are you hungry at all? Usopp made soup for you.”

“Did he.” Sanji grunted painfully as he sat on the side of the bed, not ready to be tucked into the uncomfortable position yet. “He better not have ruined any of my pans or knives.”

“Robin and Nami are making sure nobody messes up your kitchen,” Chopper assured. “I told him to, anyway, I wanted something that would go down easy and still be good for you. We just put a few vegetables in it and…oh! That’s right, just so you know,” he added brightly, “Luffy and the others raided that guy’s headquarters, since you killed him and nobody needed anything in it anymore. They brought all the food supplies they could find on board, so we have extra now.”

Sanji perked up slightly, raising an eyebrow in his direction. “Is that so? I’ll have to make a new inventory when I’m up and around.”

“If Luffy doesn’t eat it all in the meantime.” Zoro had gone to check out the meals on the tray, and brought it all over to the bedside along with Chopper’s desk chair.

“Make sure to eat it all, just like you always tell us,” Chopper lectured. “You need to rebuild your strength, and all the blood you lost. Food and rest are the best ways to do it. I’ll come back and check up on you when you’re done.”

The tray occupied the chair, so Zoro sat on the bed and curled his legs under him. He passed the bowl of soup to Sanji and took up a smaller bowl of rice for himself, and they had themselves a quiet picnic on the bed. The food was passable, but nothing special, though Sanji refrained from remarking on it. He knew the others were doing their best to fill in for him, so he treated this taste of their cooking as a sign that he needed to heal faster, to get back on his feet so he could resume his duty. The bath had perked him up enough that he could sit up alert and eat, albeit slowly. The silence between him and Zoro was comfortable, he accepted the man’s presence without needing to say anything, mulling over what it meant to him within his private thoughts. Naturally, Zoro finished first, but he merely sat back with a glass to let Sanji finish at his own pace. “Tired?” he wondered.

Sanji nodded absently. In between spoonfuls, he asked, “You staying in here again tonight?”

There was a pause before Zoro answered. “If you don’t want me to…”

The cook sighed. “We’re not going to do this again. Just…do whatever you want. With any luck I’ll be passed out asleep the whole time anyway.”

Zoro eyed him. “Are you gonna be pissed if I decide to sleep here?”

Sanji lowered his spoon into the nearly-empty bowl. True to his nature, no matter what he thought of the taste, he would eat every last drop of it so as not to waste it. “Of course not,” he said heavily. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Is that the truth?”

The blond head lifted, and Sanji shot him a glare that showed just what he thought of having his honesty called into question. Zoro actually shrank back from it, and raised a hand in placation. “Sorry! I didn’t mean…it’s just. Never mind.” He took a sip to try and cover the awkwardness. “I’m going to. Whether you like it or not.”

“The others are going to think it’s weird, if they don’t already,” Sanji warned.

“Let ‘em. I don’t care.” Zoro closed his eyes as he sat there. “I don’t owe them an explanation.”

Sanji sniffed a small chuckle under his breath and resumed eating. Before too long the bowl was empty, and he reached to set it on the chair with a rather large flinch at the strain on his body. His comrade noticed and sat up a little just in case. Sanji gestured to him. “Help me up.”

“Huh?” Zoro frowned in concern. “The bathroom again?”

“No. Just…do it, stupid.”

“Don’t call me stupid.” Zoro got up and bent to offer himself as support to help Sanji to his feet. He wasn’t sure where they were going this time, and was prepared to take a hard line if there was any attempt at going somewhere secret to smoke, or even look at the refreshed supplies. To his astonishment, Sanji only stood there and turned into his chest, throwing his arms around Zoro’s shoulders. There was only a fraction of an inch of difference in their heights, thanks to the swordsman still wearing his boots, making for a comfortable embrace. He caught Sanji around the waist to support him, and then melted into him, wrapping a little more tightly and burying his face in the cook’s shoulder and neck. What little strength Sanji had at the moment was concentrated in his arms where he clung to his companion, and his scruffy chin scraped Zoro’s neck where it pressed against him. All he did was stand there, holding and offering himself to be held, so that’s exactly what Zoro did. Mindful of bandaged wounds, he placed his arms just where they wouldn’t press against any serious injuries and tightened his embrace, enfolding the cook in such a way as to communicate without words just how much he was needed, wanted, and accepted. That slender body relaxed against his, fists clenched on the back of his shirt, and warm breath heated the inside of his neck. They stood like this for what seemed like forever, not even thinking about the possibility of someone walking in on them. It didn’t seem to matter.

Zoro’s shoulders heaved with a deep sigh, nudging Sanji slightly. He picked up his head just enough to rest his face against the swordsman’s ear. “Don’t you dare start crying or something, marimo.”

Zoro grunted, almost angrily, but didn’t move his head. “Shut up. It’s not like that.” His eyes opened slowly, not that his partner could see. “You’re not dead.”

Sanji breathed a soft sound of understanding, and shifted one hand into green hair. “When you thought I was…?”

For the longest time, Zoro didn’t answer. Then, Sanji felt lips against his neck. “Doesn’t matter,” he said heavily. “And I won’t repeat it. Ever.”

As much as he really wanted to know what had happened, some part of Sanji understood that it would cheapen it if he did. He accepted this directive with a smile against that tanned cheek. “Then I suppose I had better not die.”

“That would be easiest.” Zoro finally raised his head, meeting his comrade’s eyes for a moment before gently prying them both apart. “Anything else you need?”

“Yeah.” Sanji’s gaze sobered a bit. “Walk me next door and back. Just a lap, for now.”

Dark eyes looked confused. “Huh? What for?”

“To get some feeling back in my legs. The sooner, the better.”

“Oh.” Zoro understood, then, and willingly shifted to support Sanji with just one arm. Making a trip even this short was necessary to speed the cook’s healing and keep his legs from getting weak while lying in bed, and had the added benefit of allowing Sanji to quick glance and verify that his kitchen was still intact. That was the best part of having the infirmary next to the galley, in his estimation. They had just finished when Chopper returned as promised, and then there was sitting and inspecting and examining with medical instruments. There was still a light rattle in Sanji’s breathing, mainly because he had just been exerting himself, but Chopper seemed to accept it as not troubling. He pronounced Zoro’s bandaging job as passable and let Sanji settle into his nest of pillows, tucking him in himself. Thanks to the dose of medicine he had requested, Sanji was asleep even before the doctor could make it out of the room, leaving Zoro to do as he pleased. If he wanted to sleep there, he would have to make his own accommodations, not that there was much room in the tiny infirmary. For his part, Zoro only sat down in the chair at the bedside. “What else can be done to get him back on his feet?” he asked their doctor while he had the chance. “Or is this one of those things that takes time?”

Chopper pursed his lips in thought. “For most people, but you guys have insane strength, so it probably won’t take as long,” he answered. “You were up and around a day after you woke up. He’s already had a bath and eaten everything I brought, so I think he’ll be fine.” He fixed Zoro with a stern eye. “Just don’t let him smoke. Not at all, for at least another day or two until his lungs are clear.”

“Yeah, got it.” Zoro was aware that going that long without his fix would increase the cook’s irritability tenfold, but better that he took the brunt of it than someone else. It was already dark, and though he wasn’t exactly exhausted, Zoro stretched his legs out and laced his fingers behind his head as if he meant to sleep right there in the chair. Chopper left him to it, though he sat awake for a while just listening to Sanji breathe as night slowly crept into the room.

  


Considering how long he had stayed awake to be on watch, Zoro should have expected that he would sleep through the night, and most of the morning, and a lot of noise, even if he was starting to consider himself diligent and capable of keeping vigil. He awoke with a crick in his neck from sleeping slumped in the chair at the bedside and had to stretch and scratch and rub his face before anything else. As he blinked his eyes free of the haze of sleep, he was met with the sight of an empty bed. Startling, Zoro leaped out of the chair in an instant and looked around wildly as if there would be some sign in the tiny infirmary room of where the patient had gone. He flung open the door to the outside deck and recoiled at the bright sun, but then had a thought and whirled to rush in the other direction. Sure enough, Sanji was in the kitchen, alone, leaning against the door of the refrigerator while he gazed curiously into its chilly depths. He didn’t look up until Zoro had stormed across the room and right up behind him, and snarled at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing out of bed, cook? You’re supposed to be resting!”

Sanji turned slowly and frowned back. He still looked worn and haggard, but the color was coming back into his cheeks and his eyes were bright. “You’re not my babysitter,” he complained. “It’s breakfast-time…”

“And I’m not going to let you stand here and cook for everybody in your state!” Zoro shot back. “We don’t need you fainting in the bacon or something.”

“Let me finish.” Sanji flung a hand at him and smacked him in the chest with it. “It’s breakfast-time and I’m hungry. I just want to make some tea and a snack and I’ll go and sit down. Is that okay with you, _mother?_ ”

Zoro bristled in spite of himself. Being able to resume their usual banter of insults was a sign that Sanji was improving quickly, although he didn’t realize it at that moment. “No, it’s not,” he snapped. “You’re going to sit your ass down and tell _me_ how to make the tea. Got it?”

“Like hell,” Sanji retorted, although not with as much energy as usual. He still needed to work back up to the point where he could yell with gusto, right now his chest hurt too much. “You’re not touching my kitchen, moss-head.”

“I'm not gonna hurt anything,” Zoro scoffed, waving a hand. “Sit down and talk me through it.”

Sighing, Sanji finally gave in and inched his way around the counter, leaning on one hand, until he could get to a seat at the bar. From there he would have the perfect vantage point from which to watch everything like a hawk, and dictate his crewmate's every move. “Fine, then. Tea should be easy enough even for you, just fill the kettle with water about half-full and put it on the stove.” He pointed sternly. “Medium heat, let it boil slowly! Meantime, the loose-leaf tea is in the canister marked 'tea,' think you can find it?”

Zoro gnashed his teeth in the cook's general direction. “I know how to read, shithead, I can find the tea.” He blustered about the kitchen, filling the kettle, turning on the stove, and then shoving other staples around the pantry until he could find the tea. Sure, it was easy, but Sanji still told him exactly how to measure out enough tea for his personal taste and put it in the pot, and then exactly when to take the water off so it would be hot enough but not too hot to properly steep the leaves. His precision was the key to the perfect tea, and barking orders at Zoro was the only way to get it the way he liked it. Once he had that in front of him, he turned to breakfast itself, and decided he couldn't trust the big oaf with anything more complex than toast. But not regular toast, _nice_ toast made from the last few slices of a loaf of country bread he had baked before this whole mess happened. He snapped out precise directions for slicing it and putting it under the broiler in the oven to toast evenly, content that Zoro no longer complained back at him for the level of detail in his instructions. At last, Sanji had warm toast and jam to go with his tea, and sighed in contentment. Zoro eyed him over the counter as he wiped his hands on a towel. “See? Told you.”

“Only because you had me here,” Sanji sniffed as he spread jam on his toast. “Admit it, you'd never find your way around the kitchen without me.” He shot Zoro a quick look. “And turn the oven off, dumbass.”

It was the only small thing Zoro had forgotten to do without being told, so he sheepishly reached over and snapped off the heat. “What about the others?”

“Well, if you're not going to let me cook...” Sanji looked disappointed, but let it be after a moment. “No, not you. You've done enough. Thanks,” he added sincerely, with a quick glance up at the swordsman across the counter. “Robin's been handling it just fine, I'm sure she can manage one more time. But I swear to heaven and hell that I'm cooking dinner tonight, and you can't stop me.”

Zoro held his gaze for a moment, peering. As tired as the cook sounded, he also seemed to be improving just by sitting in his kitchen and having some food. Huffing to himself, he tossed the towel aside by the sink and poured himself some tea before coming around the counter to join his comrade. “Yeah, we'll see about that.”

Sanji glanced sidelong at him as he settled down beside him. “Since when were you the self-appointed mother hen making sure I don't over-exert myself?”

Zoro sipped at his tea like he didn't care. “I'll fuss if I wanna fuss.”

Sanji kept looking at him for a long moment, and then breathed the tiniest chuckle under his breath. He leaned sideways, just enough to brush their shoulders together. “Sap.”

“Shut up,” Zoro muttered softly.

There was another gentle laugh before Sanji turned back to his own tea. He knew Zoro’s soft side well, but catching him being embarrassed about it amused him to no end. “Don’t worry, marimo. I won’t let anyone else know how you really are.” _Damn private marimo_ , he thought as he made his way through his toast. He didn't mind; it would have been much harder to explain the entirety of what he and Zoro meant to each other to the rest of the crew, it was better that they simply kept it between themselves. Zoro could have his privacy, and he could keep his reputation as a ladies’ man intact. He could hear the thump of feet on the stairs and straightened up just in time, so that when the rest of the crew burst into the galley a few moments later, they weren't touching one another at all. Luffy was delighted to find everyone up and around, and even Chopper cheered at how quickly Sanji's recovery was progressing. He had to check for himself, though, so while Robin and Usopp gladly slipped into the kitchen to make sure everyone else got something resembling a proper breakfast, Chopper drew the cook aside into the infirmary to examine him in full. It was still his insistence that Sanji stay still for the day, that he rest even if he couldn’t sleep, and Sanji patiently agreed to do so despite his promise to himself for dinner. He glanced up as a shadow darkened the open doorway between the kitchen and the infirmary, and caught Zoro’s eye as he lingered to eavesdrop on the examination. Their eyes met, and the barest hint of relief passed through the swordsman’s dark eyes. Sanji gave him a smirk of assurance and then settled back into his pillow nest to obey doctor’s orders for the day. At least until evening. If all hell broke loose all over again, so be it. That was the way things were around the _Thousand Sunny_. Content with the state of things, Zoro nodded once and drifted away, to finally go back to his usual routine like nothing had happened.


End file.
